


Stop Playing the Victim (it's not an instrument)

by i8thecookie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bickering, Black Hermione Granger, Bottom Draco, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Draco is an angsty idiot, Edited, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fighting, Fluff and Angst, HP: EWE, He is also music nerd, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern time period, Oral Sex, Post-War, Redemption, Slow Burn, Vegan hermione, Wedding, Wizard and technology, desi harry, draco is a matyr, mention of self harm, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9954812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i8thecookie/pseuds/i8thecookie
Summary: His eyes studied the three of them and he huffed arrogantly before putting his hands up in surrender. He raised an eyebrow at Granger.“Where were you keeping that?” he had to ask, looking at her wand. But before she could replay, Ron punched him. In the face.Draco stumbled backwards, but managed to keep his balance.“Don't you dare speak to my wife, you filthy mutt!” Ron snarled at him. Draco touch his lip with one finger when he felt something wet against his bottom lip, it didn't take a genius to figure out it was blood. He looked at Weasley, trying to keep his cool, he let out a sigh.“You know what? I came here to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now." [edited 28/02]





	

**Author's Note:**

> It took me way too long to write this piece of trash. Sorry for any spelling and grammar errors. English isn't my native language.

“But how is she suppose to bake without eggs and dairy products?” Ron Weasley wailed. His wife-to-be just rolled her brown eyes.

“Honestly Ron, you can do loads of stuff without using animal products! She just has to get creative,” Hermione said. “It doesn't have to be anything big, I'll be the only vegan there, everyone else can eat the regular cake.”

Ron groaned. “But I want to eat the same cake as my wife, we're suppose to cut the first pieces together, you know?” He stalked after Hermione as she went into the kitchen, looking endlessly frustrated. “Can't you just not be vegan, for like, a day?” He looked at Hermione with a hopeful expression.

“Of course I can,” she replied without looking at him. “I just don't want to.” She gave him her sweetest smile and kissed him on the cheek. “I can pull some recipes from the internet and give to Molly, but if she can't do it, I'll just turn to a bakery and we both know how offended she would be if I did that, so.” She gave him a meaningful look and patted him on the shoulder before she walked out from the kitchen.

Ron let out a series of unhappy noises and sobs as he fell back into his chair. Harry Potter, best friend and best-man, chuckled lightly where he sat on the opposite end of the table with a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hands. His hair was an untamed mess at the top of his head and even though it was the middle of the day, he was still in his pyjamas.

“I don't know why you're surprised,” he said, “She's been eating all vegan for over a year now.”

“I know,” Ron sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I just..I don't know. I thought she could at least have one day where she wasn't, you know?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, but Hermione isn't exactly known for doing anything half-assed,” he said. “If she was, she wouldn't be the Hermione we know and love.”

Ron's face settled into a lovesick expression. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess you're right.” His lovesick expression only lasted for a few seconds before he groaned again and rubbed his face with both his hands. “It such a pain, though,” he whined. “Trying to explain to mother WHY she won't eat meat or dairy products.” He threw himself back in the chair with a heavy sigh. “She's so old-fashion, you know? She doesn't get it!”

Harry just gave another nod, trying to look sympathetic. In moments like these there weren't much to do besides letting Ron vent.

It was almost a months since shit had hit the fan, when Ron, being as oblivious as ever, had let it slip that, “Of course I think we should have the wedding reception at the Burrow, where else is there?” Which had made Hermione outrageous, causing her to scream that, “So, just because I'm muggle-born my own family won't get to see me get married!” In which a very shocked Ron had replied that, “Of course they will, why would you say that?” to which a still very furious Hermione had responded with “And how are suppose to get all my muggle relatives to the Burrow? Are they going on a broom? Are they going to Apparate?” To which Ron, who was slowly starting to see the problem with the idea, had let out a weak “Oh..”

“Yeah, “oh”.” Hermione had snapped. “Didn't think of that one, did you?”

So after having a long conversation they had come to the conclusion that they would have a small muggle like ceremony and a wedding reception at Hermione's parents house, that would last until the evening, and after that they would continue the celebrations at the Burrow. It was a pretty neat plan, Harry thought and Arthur was ecstatic at the mere thought of getting to mingle with so many muggles for a whole day. From the moment the couple had announced their plans he had been doing nothing but studying “the muggle culture”. Of course, Hermione was a bit nervous and felt like maybe the culture difference would be too great for the two families to click, but the Weasley's had actually done a really good job brushing up on their knowledge of the muggle world and as more time had passed, Hermione seemed just a little less stressed about it.

Harry couldn't help but smile. “It's going to be fine, Ron,” he reassured his friend. “You got this, Hermione got this. In the end, all that matters is that you have each other, right?”

Ron looked at Harry and slowly nodded in agreement. He sat up straight and took a deep breath to calm himself. “Okay, well. I'm going to the Burrow this afternoon. Are you coming with?” Harry nodded and swallowed a mouthful of coffee.

“Yeah, I have like ten boxes full of things that all belong to Ginny. Figure she might want to go through them so I don't end up throwing away something she wants to keep.”

Ron nodded. “I take it you want swing by Grimmauld Place?” he asked and Harry hummed in confirmation. After Harry and Ginny had decided to end their relationship, Harry saw little to no reason to keep living at number 12, Grimmauld Place. Being there was in itself quite agonising, but living there alone would be unbearable. The house was too big and even though five years had passed since the war ended, it would just serve as constant reminder of everyone he'd lost. Some wounds simply didn't heal over time and being there was just pouring salt in it. So for now, he lived with Hermione and Ron. They had been kind enough to offer their guest room to Harry when he informed them on his and Ginny's decision to split, knowing how Harry felt about living at Grimmauld Place. Ginny had moved back to the Burrow with her parents, although she claimed that it was only for now, during the wedding planning, and as soon as everything was done she would move out again.

“Oh, have you decided what you're going to do about the music at the reception?” Harry asked and Ron shushed him, alarmingly looking out to see if Hermione was nearby. He leaned forward and whispered. “No I haven't and if Hermione finds out, I'm dead!”

Harry frowned at him. “Ron, you are aware that the wedding is a week away?” he said and stared at him in disbelief. “You're going to have to tell her that you weren't able to book a band so we can rent like a DJ or something, at least for the muggle reception” Ron groaned and rubbed his eyes.

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “I just didn't want to disappoint her,” he said, looking sad. “It was the one thing she asked me to do, and I screwed up,” he rested his head in his hands, staring down at his feet. “I'm going to be the worst husband.”

Harry looked at his best friend sympathetically. “I'll speak to Ginny,” he said after a while. “We can, put our great minds together and maybe work something out,” Ron gave him a grateful smile.

“This is the reason you're my best man,” he said and Harry laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. But I wouldn't expect too much, okay?” he warned and Ron nodded in agreement.

“I know, still,” he shrugged. “It would be nice if we could find someone who'd be willing to play at such short notice.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed and finished his coffee. “Okay,” he said and put down the mug on the table. “I'm going upstairs to get dressed. After that we get Ginny's stuff and then we go to the Burrow.”

Ron nodded. “I'm going to see if Hermione did that internet thing she said she would do. Man, I still don't get how all that works,” he added with a frown, but then he smiled. “Muggles sure are intelligent!”

Ron had over the years began to develop a fascination for all things Muggle, similar to his father and Hermione and Harry both liked to poke fun at him for it. “But you can't deny that this is amazing!” Ron had said and ecstatically waved a smartphone around. When Hermione was going into the depths of how different Muggle technology worked Ron had sat completely quiet and stared at her in awe. He actually listened and soaked in all the knowledge, to Hermione's surprise. It was almost adorable, Harry thought. Hermione would get really passionate about whatever she was talking about, going on and on, explaining and analysing and Ron would just sit there, wide-eyed and awestruck and just listen to her. Occasionally he would say something like; “I see,” or “Really?” which would encourage Hermione to keep talking about whatever it was she was talking about.

Harry made it out from the kitchen after putting the mug in the sink and walked to the entrance hall where the stairs were located. Hermione and Ron had been living together in their own house for almost three years and Harry would sometimes forget that his two best friends weren't married yet, as everything about them seemed to point to the contrary. Hermione had been very set on prioritising her education and she only recently became a certified healer at St. Mungo's Hospital. They decided they wanted to live together when it became clear to them that between Hermione studying to become a healer and Ron to become an auror, they had little to no time to spend together.

The house wasn't huge, but it was more than enough. With a kitchen, living room and one bedroom on the bottom floor and another bedroom and a bathroom on the second floor it was both spacious and allowed the couple to get some privacy from each other if needed. The bedroom on the second floor acted as more of a study/library, up until recently. Now there was a bed crammed in there along with a few of Harry’s belongings. It was a temporary solution and Harry looked forward to getting his own place. He just had to find the perfect one.

He made it into the guest room and picked up a few articles of clothing. He brought them up to his face to smell them in order to decided if he could wear them, or if he needed to do some laundry. He decided that they smelled just fine and got dressed. He went into the bathroom that was located right next to the guest room and ran a hand through his hair when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He sighed and pulled at a few strands. He was suffering from a very extreme case of bed head, but couldn't actually be bothered to do more than pat it down with some water and hope for the best. After doing that and brushing his teeth, he went down the stairs and met Ron and Hermione in the entrance hall.  
Ron was fully dressed and ready to go, so Harry put his shoes on. He decided against a jacket. It was mid July and the sun was shining through the windows.

“Okay so I printed out some recipes for Molly, they're in this,” she said and handed over an envelope to Ron. “I'm going over to my parents to help with some decoration and we need to figure out where we should set up for the band,” Ron swallowed and forced a smile.

“Yeah, of course.” he said stiffly, but Hermione paid him no mind.

“My mother has a friend, who has a cousin, whose aunts-,” she looked quizzically for a moment but then waved her hand in dismiss. “Anyway, point is; my mother can set up some of the equipment for the band, but instruments; they're going to have to bring by themselves, so make sure they know that,” Ron nodded, looking paler by the second, making his freckles stand out even more than they already did.

“Yes, well, we should get going then!” Ron said and gave Hermione and hasty kiss on the cheek before grabbing Harry by the arm and Apparated them both out of there before she could protest.

Harry hadn't been prepared at all and when the tugging stopped he fell to the ground and moaned in pain. He glared up at Ron who looked sheepish.

“Why?” was all he managed to get out as he felt his whole body ache from the Apparition.

“Sorry, mate,” Ron said and stretched out a hand. Harry grabbed it and Ron pulled him to his feet. “I panicked,” he admitted.

“Yeah well, next time, give a bloke a warning, would ya?” Harry mumbled and rubbed his neck.

Finally getting a good look at where they were, Harry only just realised that they were standing outside number 12, Grimmauld Place. He took out his wands and lowered the Wards.

They went inside and were greeted at the door by Kreacher. Paying no mind to the bitter house-elf, Harry started going through the boxes with Rons help. There were so many boxes. The entire place had been packed up, only leaving things that had already been there when they moved in, unpacked.

Ginny and Harry had moved in together for the same reason Hermione and Ron had. Between Ginny's Quidditch-practice and Harry's Auror training they hardly ever saw each other. Unfortunately for them, living together did nothing to improve that and after five long years, it became the downfall of their relationship. Harry would always love Ginny, but everything had been so different between them after the war, Ginny had felt it to. They had both held onto each other in the hopes that they could make it work. It had been hard when the reality of the situation dawned on them. Their priorities were no longer the same and neither were their dreams of the future. Ginny didn't want to get married or have children. Harry did. Ginny didn't want Harry to priorities work over her, but Harry argued that he couldn't just sit at home and do nothing if he knew he was needed elsewhere. They had talked an entire night and finally came to the conclusion that they would be happier if they went separate ways. Of course it had been painful and there had been tears. But they both knew that this was the best. They had parted as friends and for that, Harry was eternally grateful.

He opened one box to see a collection of Quidditch-magazines. He waved his wand and the box started to levitate. He placed it by the door with the rest of Ginny's stuff.

“So, you're really over then?” Ron asked, looking over at Harry. Harry nodded. Ron muttered a curse under his breath but then caught himself. He flushed a little. “I mean, if that's what you want,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “It's just a shame, you know?” Harry said nothing as he went through the next box. A collection of newspaper, mostly The Daily Prophet. He smiled as he remembered that the only reason they saved these was so they would have something to feed the fire in the fireplace with. Ron came up behind him. He nose scrunched up when he saw the news papers.

“Ew, trash, I take it?” but Harry didn't reply, as his attention had been caught by one of the paper's headline. **“EX-DEATH EATER PERISH IN FIRE”** , it read. He took it up and studied the photo that was plastered on the front page. The scornful face of Draco Malfoy looked up at him. The title was rather misleading though, Harry thought, as they had found nothing but traces of Malfoy's wand in the debris. Even if it was Fiendfyre that had destroyed the entire house he had lived in, Harry remembering feeling unsettled by the fact that there weren't as much as a hint of human remains in the ashes. The wand had undoubtedly been Malfoy's, but it had been too damaged for them to analyse the spell work. Of course there were rumours. Some said that Malfoy had been killed by a witch or wizard looking for revenge. Some said Malfoy had been so consumed by grief after the death of his mother that he had killed himself. And some said he had left the country. At this point there was no telling which was true and by now most of the world had forgotten about him. Three years had passed since the fire and there were still no word of his whereabouts. Maybe he really did die. Maybe he was living his life to the fullest in France. No one knew.

Harry thought about the last time he had seen Malfoy. He had spoken for him at trials, testified that he had seen through Voldemort's eyes how he had threatened and forced the youngest Malfoy him to carry out his orders. How he had lowered his wand when he stood face to face with Dumbledore and how he had lied when Harry, Hermione and Ron were captured and brought to the Malfoy Manors. How he had been unwilling to identify Harry even though it had been obvious that he could. He had also spoken for Narcissa. Telling the Wizengamot how she had lied to Voldemort and told him he was dead when he wasn't. That she was the reason he was still alive. Then he told them that Lucius Malfoy deserved to rot in Azkaban for the rest of his miserable life. He deserved nothing less.

That was five years ago. Harry knew Lucius was serving life in Azkaban, but he was still unclear about what had become of the remaining Malfoy's. He didn't know why they had been living in that cabin that had been located in a no-man's-land, where the Fiendfyre had been cast and where Malfoy had supposedly died. He didn't know what they had been doing those two years between the trials and the fire, as they had kept a low profile after the war. The only thing Harry knew for certain was that Narcissa had passed, right before the cabin burned to the ground.

“What do you think happened?” Harry snapped out of his thought and looked up. Ron was standing next to him, reading over his shoulder. Harry shrugged.

“Who knows,” he just said and threw the paper back into the box and closed it before placing it in the trash pile.

“I talked to George the other day, and he told me the most bizarre thing,” he said, leaning against the wall, smiling a little. “A few weeks ago people started to theorize about what happened to him, yeah?”

“What people?” Harry asked and Ron waved his hand dismissively.

“I don't know, people, but anyway. So some were saying that they had actually seen him,” Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was the first time he was hearing of it.

“Really?” he said and Ron nodded.

“Yeah, but it's completely bonkers, right. Cause people are claiming that he's living in the muggle part of London, as a muggle!”

Harry snorted. “That I would love to see,” he said and Ron grinned at him.

“I know right. Can you even imagine that?” Harry shook his head and Ron sighed, looking dreamingly out the window. “I would've paid good money to witness that sort of karma,” he sighed. “Oh well, one can dream.”

“You know,” he continued as Harry riffled through more boxes. “I never did understand why you helped the git.” Harry cast a glance at Ron over his shoulder and shrugged.

“It was the right thing to do,” he said. “We were all just kids and we all had to make hard choices.” Ron scoffed at that and Harry strangled a sigh. He had had this conversation with Ginny many times. “It wouldn't have felt right, getting him thrown into Azkaban over a stupid choice he made when he was sixteen. His father on the other hand,” and Ron hummed. “Lucius practically brain-washed him,” Harry continued. “Malfoy wouldn't had had the ideals he had if his father hadn't drilled them into his head from a young age.”

“That's true,” Ron reluctantly agreed.

“And his mother did save my life so,” Harry added. “I'd say we're even.”

“Yeah,” Ron was silent for a moment. “But if I ever do see him again, I'll probably punch him,”

Harry laughed at how matter of fact Ron sounded. “I'm right there with you on that.”

 

*~*~*~*

 

Somewhere, in the muggle part of London, Draco Malfoy sneezed.

“Gesundheit,” four people said in unison and Draco snivelled and pinched his nose.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Are we ready to go again or?” Someone asked and Draco realized they were all looking at him, waiting for confirmation. He nodded and once again placed his hands on the electric bass that hung over his body by the shoulder band. He counted them in and they started playing. He could feel every tone from his bass vibrate through his whole body. He smiled, savouring the feeling.

His love for music had reawakened soon after the his mother's death. Remembering the countless times he'd sat by her side while she played the piano, sometimes singing along with her. He felt a warmth in his chest swell up at the memories. His mother had loved music, muggle music to be more exact. But she only ever played it when his father hadn't been around. Draco had practically grown up hearing Beethoven, Mozart and Bach. With him having perfect pitch he had no problem replicating his mother and soon he'd learnt to play some sonatas himself. He had also taken it upon himself to learn how to read sheet music and as a youngster he would get completely lost in book about music theory that his mother would bring home to him on his request.

Three years ago, two years after the war, Narcissa had fallen terribly ill and no healer could tell what or why this was happening. With Lucius Malfoy rotting away in Azkaban and the manor being sized by the Wizengamot, along with most of their fortune, it had left them with little to no resources at the time. Draco had done the best the could, taking care of her and job hunting at the same time. But naturally there were consequences to his actions during the war and no one had been willing to hire him. It had been tough. During that time they had lived in a ramshackle for cabin in a heavily secluded area, provided by the Wizengamot as a temporary solution to their homelessness. The only things they had been allowed to keep were some robes, their wands (on the condition that they were only to be used in their home to assist them with very everyday things, such as laundry and cooking) and their grand, antique piano. Everyday when Draco would come home from his job hunting he would seat himself in front of the piano and play for his mother. It was the only thing that would make her smile, no matter how hard it got.

After her passing Draco had been devastated, but he'd still managed to find comfort in playing. Performing Beethoven’s Moonlight sonata in B-minor for no one but himself, he thought that he could still feel her presence. Right there, by the piano, where they had sat ever so often, playing together. That night, the night of her passing, he had played. Through aching fingers and blurred vision he had played and played and played. Never stopping, never pausing. He went from the sorrowful tones of Beethoven to the prosperous tunes of Bach. He played until the first ray of sunlight had shone through the dirty windows of the cabin.

And that's when he'd stopped.

He got up from the piano and took out his wand. He had looked at it for a long time, contemplating. Then, feeling more resolved than ever, he cast Fiendfyre. Without looking back, he dropped his wand and exited the cabin, not bothering to watch as it burned to the ground.

After that, Draco had retreated to the muggle part of London. But the fact that he was homeless and had no money remained the same and it wasn't easy for him to get a job. He had no idea how anything worked, he was terrified of almost all vehicles and he had no qualifications or references. Technically, he didn't even exist. The first days he'd slept in alleyways and rooted through trash cans for food. Soon he learnt that apartment stairwells were a blessing and that he was a natural at dumpster diving. He couldn't believe the amount of perfectly edible food that was thrown away, but was thankful that he didn't have to starve.

One day when he had been strolling around aimlessly along the streets, drooling over baked goods he couldn't afford and inhaling the sweet smell of freshly brewed coffee, he passed a music store. Feeling a tug at his chest when he set his eyes on an electric piano through the window, he stopped. His fingers were itching to play. He wondered how long it would take before someone threw him out, if he went it.

Having gone almost a month without showering Draco had developed a strange odour, to put it mildly. His face was scruffy looking from the lack of sleep and the untrimmed beard that had started to grow uncontrollably did nothing to help him look respectable. His hair had grown longer as well and hung straggly around his face. The few times he had managed to catch a glimpse of his reflection he'd flinched at the sight of himself. He look nothing like the proud, young Malfoy he once had been. So when people saw him, they avoided looking at him, or shot nasty glares at him and he had more than once been asked to leave a shop because he was “making the paying customers feel uneasy”. At times like those he wished he still had his wand, but he knew that if he performed any type of magic the aurors would be able to track him down and he figured that after he had burnt the cabin down, (which had been government property), he wasn't exactly on their good side and knew that he would be taken in and tried again. He also knew that the entire Wizarding world would've loved nothing more than to see him thrown into Azkaban for his actions during the war. Had Potter not spoken for him and his mother at their trials, Draco knew that's where he would be sitting now.

Sometimes he wondered if that would've been better than living the life he was then. In Azkaban he would've at least have had a roof over his head and food he didn't have to dumpster dive for. He often entertained the thought of just walking into the Ministry and turning himself in, but quickly dismissed those ideas.

He'd decided to enter the music store after a while. The store had looked empty and he'd made his way over to one of the electric pianos. He'd sat down and pressed the power button. It'd switched on.  
Looking around to make sure no one else was there he'd lowered the volume slightly before he started to play. He'd just let his fingers work on their own. Pressing down at the lower keys first before adding higher notes with his other hand. Soon, his hands were dancing over the keys, going slowly at first and then picking up the pace. He'd pressed down and let up the pedals every now and then, making the tones ring out or stop abruptly. He didn't notice when an employee had made it out from the break room and entered the store at the sound of the music. The employee startled Draco when he'd began to clap his hands together slowly. Whipping around the chair, he'd turned to see a man that was standing behind him.

“You're really good,” the man had told him, and Draco had humbly mumbled a thanks. He'd expected the man to escort him out or tell he couldn't be there. But the man had done none of those things. Instead he had asked about Draco. How long have you been playing? Do you read sheet music? Was that an original piece? Do you write your own music? These were all questions the man had asked him and Draco had cautiously answered every single one of them. Talking in as few details and words as possible about his relationship with music. The man seemed deeply fascinated with Draco and had after a while, he had offered to buy him lunch. Draco had wanted to say yes but had declined. He didn't know this man and even though he seemed to not pose a threat, he wasn't willing to taking any risks. The man had went on to tell him that he was taking over as manager of the store, as the previous one was to retire soon and he was looking to hire someone. At first Draco hadn't realised that the man was offering him a job until he had asked. “Would you be interested?” and Draco's mouth had fell open. He remembered thinking that he couldn't be in his right mind to offer Draco a job with the way he was looking. But the man only smiled at him and told him; “You look like you could use some kindness.” He had written down an address on a piece of paper and given it to Draco and told him to go there. “Tell them I sent you, I want you to clean up and look nice if you're going to work here.”

Naturally Draco had been extremely suspicious of the man, but soon figured it was worth the risk. If he died he wouldn't be missed anyway and anything was better than continue living like he lived then. So he had went to the address the man, Aiden Gordon, had sent him to. It had turned out to be a shelter for young homeless people. Draco couldn't understand how he could've missed this. The shelter was managed by volunteers and relied on donations to keep running. He'd went up to the reception and told the woman sitting there that Aiden had sent him. She had smiled and gotten up from her chair to show him around. The shelter had 20 beds, five showers and toilets. There was a dining hall where some of the volunteers worked to cook food and give out to the people who came there. Draco was brought into a room where he got to pick out some clothes that people had donated to the shelter. The clothes he chose were a bit big on him and it wasn't until he got undressed to take a shower he realised how underweight he had become. In shower he started crying. He was so happy to finally get to take a warm shower, and he was overwhelmed by the kindness all these muggles had shown him. He felt ashamed and unworthy of their help. After showering he ate his first hot meal in over a month and after that he crawled into bed. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

The next day he'd returned to the music store. Aiden almost didn't recognise him at first. He wore his blond hair in a bun and had shaved his face. He had gotten a pair of jeans and a jumper from the shelter that he wore. Aiden had immediately started showing him the ropes around the shop. Showing him how to work the counter and explained how the cash register worked. It was a lot to take in, but Draco absorbed every single word like a sponge and listened intensely as Aiden spoke. He wanted to do a perfect job so that he wouldn't regret hiring Draco. They went to the back where all there products were and Aiden listed everything there was and where it could be found. He asked Draco about tuning instruments and changing strings on a guitar, all of which Draco had no problem doing. Apart from being a store they would sometimes do repairs, so it was important that Draco could do certain things. What he couldn't do, he quickly learned. It took only a few days before he could start working. Aiden became like a guardian to Draco. Even though he wasn't all that much older, he looked out for him. He helped with everything outside work. Getting an apartment, setting up a bank account and loads more. He never asked for anything in return and he never pried. Draco knew that he could never repay the man for all he had done, he could only try and lead a respectable life, to show Aiden that he had done the right in helping him. He also vowed to himself that he would never speak ill or think anything bad of muggles and muggle-borns again. These people had shown him more kindness in a month than any pureblood wizard or witch had in his lifetime. Merlin knows he didn't deserve it and the guilt was tearing him up. He had once told Aiden that if he knew what sort of person he really was he wouldn't had helped Draco and that he felt like he wasn't worthy of his kindness because of who he had been. At the Aiden had replied; “So, become the sort of person that would be worthy of it,” and those words had really struck a chord with Draco. So everyday, from that day on, he strived to become just that. A person worthy of kindness. A person worthy of saving.

All of that were now two years past, but the words didn't ring any less true because of it. Draco, now living in his own flat and still working in the music store, had finally gotten his life back on track. He was no longer restricted by his lack of resources and had managed to make a name for himself in the muggle parts of London. He did a lot of volunteering at the shelter that had helped him get back to his feet and he donated money and clothes when he could. He also volunteered at a few other similar shelters and had gotten together with a group of four other musicians. They weren't exactly a band, but they played together a lot and often went around to different settlements and played for the residents and sometimes at different charity events. Every now and then they would get paid, but seeing as all five of them owed their lives to the same shelter, all the money they earned were donated. Aiden had agreed to allow the band to practice in the store after closing, under the conditions that they used their own equipment, cleaned up after themselves and didn't break anything. He had also listed times and dates when they weren't allowed to practice there and Draco followed all the rules religiously, knowing he would lose his job if he messed up.

They were in the middle of practising when there was a loud banging on the door. Everyone stopped and Draco looked at the four other people that were in the store and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked and all four of the, shook their heads. Draco took the bass and lifted the shoulder band off from his shoulders, putting it down. He walked to the front of the store and saw Aiden through the small window on the door. He unlocked and let him in.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked concernedly, as it was highly unusual for Aiden to show up at the store when he knew Draco and his band were practising. Aiden just smiled at him.

“Of course not, but I do need to ask you a favour. Are the rest of the band here?” Draco nodded and gestured to Aiden to follow him to the back of the store. The rest of the band sat quietly, waiting for Draco's return. When he showed up with Aiden close in tow, everyone greeted him with a big smile.

“Sup?” the drummer, Timothy said and Aiden just nodded.

“I need a favour,” he said, getting straight business.

“Of course, anything,” the lead guitarist, Maya said. “What do you need?”

“Next week, I don't know the exact date, I'll have to look it up,” he mumbled more to himself than the other five people in the room. “Anyway, as favour to a friend I'm going to be renting out some equipment for a wedding reception. A few microphones, some speakers, amplifiers and a sound board. However,” He said, looking a bit sheepish. “I have no way of getting them there. My wife, god bless her, needs the car that weekend so I was hoping you could possibly help me with transportation and then the set up once we're there?”

“Of course,” Draco said in a heartbeat and everyone audibly agreed.

“It's the least we can do! Of course you can count on us,” Milo, the keyboardist said. Aiden gave them all a huge grin.

“Awesome! I'll be in touch when I know exact date, time and location.” With that said, Aiden left and the band went back to practising.

 

*~*~*~*

 

“I can' believe him!” Ginny hissed leaning in closer to Harry. “It was the one thing she asked him to do!”

“I know,” Harry said. “and, believe me, so does he. He feels really bad. There's gotta be something we can do?” he looked pleadingly at Ginny who sucked in her cheeks and looked annoyed.

“He screws up and we're the ones that has to clean up his mess, it's just so frustrating,” she whispered aggressively and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Give him he break, his stressing out about this,” he said defensively and Ginny glared at him before grudgingly nodding.

“Fine, but I'm not covering for him if this doesn't work out,” she said and Harry nodded. Just as he was about to say something, Molly strutted into the kitchen.

“What is all the whispering about?” she asked, looking suspiciously between the two of them.

“Nothing,” they both answered, a little too quickly. Molly raised an eyebrow but didn't press the matter any further.

“Well if you can stand around whispering about nothing, how about instead you help an old woman with the cooking, hm?” She gave Ginny a meaningful look and Ginny rolled her eyes before pulling out her wand.

“No, dear!” Molly shrieked, causing them both to jump. “Don't use your wand, it's always best to do it by hand!” Ginny sighed but complied. She started cutting up vegetables and Harry joined in. Molly nodded and looked satisfied, until something happening outside caught her attention and she groaned before rushing out, shouting; _“NO RONALD, THAT WAS NOT WHAT I ASKED YOU TO DO!”_

They prepared the vegetables in silence. It was a bit weird, but Harry didn't stress over it. They had only been separated for a month, it was bound the be at least a little awkward. Ginny cleared her throat and disrupted the silence.

“I've been meaning to ask you something,” she said gingerly and looked intensely at the carrot she was cutting.

“And what's that?” Harry asked after a few more moments of silence dragged by. Ginny looked nervous, he noted. She put the knife down, but still seemed unwilling to look at him. Harry felt something twist in his gut, but he tried to ignore it.

“I wanted to ask you how you would feel if I wanted to invite Luna to the wedding,” she said slowly.

Harry frowned. “Haven't Hermione and Ron already invited her?” he asked confused. Ginny swallowed and nodded.

“Yes, technically,” she said, “But, I was actually going to ask her to come...as my date,” Ginny finally finished and looked up at Harry, waiting for a reaction. Her hands fidgeting in her lap and her hazel eyes were filled with worry. Harry felt a small stab in his chest, but smiled at her despite that.

“I think that's a great idea,” he said and Ginny looked relieved.

“Really?” She asked with an uncertain smile and Harry just nodded. Before he could blink she had pulled him into a hug.

“That means so much to me,” she whispered and Harry said nothing. Instead he just reciprocated the hug. They pulled away just as Ron entered the kitchen. He looked between them and then grinned.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked gleefully and both Harry and Ginny rolled their eyes.

“Ginny just told me about the date she's bringing,” Harry said and smiled at Ginny who blushed. Ron looked at Ginny with wide eyes.

“What?” he snapped. “You're not bringing a date. Ginny, everything is already arranged, you're going to give Hermione a heart attack if you invite someone now!”

Ginny snorted at him. “Like you're the one to talk,” and Ron looked puzzled. “What band did you say were going to play at the reception?” Ginny asked mockingly and gave him a meaningful look. Ron spluttered and flushed in anger.

“That's different, I’m going to fix it!” he shouted at her and Ginny shook her head in disbelief.

“It's really not, my date is already invited, I'm just going to ask them to come as my date,” and Ron gave her a questioning look.

“Who?”

Ginny pressed her lips together and glared at her older brother. “No, I'm not going to tell you,” she finally said and Ron gaped at her.

“Why?” he asked and looked offended.

“Because you're going to be weird about it,” Ginny said firmly. “You'll just have to see.”

“Why would I be weird about it? Seriously?” He looked to Harry for an explanation, but he only shrugged in response. Ron scoffed and sat down.

“Honestly, I won't be weird, just tell me!” he looked at the two of them pleadingly but was only met with silence. “The only thing that would make it weird were if it was someone like,” he looked thoughtful for a moment before he blurted out; “Lovegood!” and gave Ginny a meaningful look which was suppose to be encouraging because obviously, to Ron, the idea was so bizarre that it couldn't possibly be anywhere near the truth. When he was met with absolute radio silence, the realization slowly seemed to dawn on Ron. His eyes widened and his opened and closed his mouth several times, looking like a trout. He let out a low “No”, making the two letter word draw out for three solid seconds. Ginny looked tense and Harry could see how she was clenching and unclenching her jaw. She refused to look at either of the boys.

“Really? Lovegood?” Ron said, looking thoroughly bemused. “When did you two even-,”

“I can date whoever I want, Ronald!” Ginny finally snapped and glared daggers at him. “It's none your business!” She got up and stormed out of the kitchen. Ron stared after her, mouth hanging open. When she was gone, he closed it and looked at Harry, eyes still wide.

“I didn't mean it like that,” he tried to defend himself. “I had no idea she liked girls, she never told me!” Ron leaned forward. “Is that why you broke up?” he asked in a low voice and Harry couldn't help the laugh that escaped from his mouth. Ron looked bewildered and Harry shook his head.

“No, that's not...Ron, she isn't gay,” he said. “She's probably bisexual or pansexual.” Ron looked even more confused and Harry sighed. “She likes people and gender doesn't matter because it's a social construct anyway.” He explained shortly, but Ron seemed none the wiser.

“So...she likes Luna because Luna is a person and not because she is a girl?” he revised and looked even more confused as the words left his mouth. Harry ran a hand through is thick, black hair and sighed deeply.

“I...” he began but decided against himself. “Yes.” he just said instead. “That's exactly it, bravo.” Ron looked thoughtful.

“I don't get it,” he said and shook his head. “But it doesn't matter. As long as she's happy.”

Harry smiled at him. “Yeah,” he said, wholeheartedly agreeing.

Ron studied him for a few seconds. “You okay?” he finally asked. Harry leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtful. He had felt a stab in his heart when he realised that Ginny was already moving on. But as he took a closer look and reflected on his feelings, he realized it had more to do with the fact that she had already found someone, and he hadn't. He wasn't sad because it was Ginny. He was said because it wasn't him. He sighed.

“I will be,” he finally said and Ron nodded. Suddenly he groaned.

“I should have said a Slytherin,” he said mournfully. “that would have been a lot more bizarre, Ginny would never date a Slytherin.”

Harry hummed in agreement. “No Gryffindor in their right mind would date a Slytherin,” he said and Ron started laughing.

“I should have said Draco Malfoy, that if anything would've been the least possible scenario and truly outlandish!”

 

*~*~*~*

 

Somewhere, in the muggle part of London, Draco Malfoy sneezed. Again.

“I must be coming down with something,” he mumbled to himself and pinched his nose to stop it from itching. Practise was over and he was alone in the shop, getting ready to close up and go home. He stood hunched over behind the counter and didn't bother to stand up when he heard the door open and the familiar jingle of the bell that let him know that someone had entered the store.

“We're closed,” he called and expected to hear someone mumbled an apology and then leave, like they usually did. But there was only silence. Then someone spoke.

“So the reports of your death has been greatly exaggerated, I see,” the familiar voice drawled and Draco's eyes widened. He flew up from behind the counter and came face to face with Blaise Zabini. He felt his breath catch in his throat.

“What are you doing here?” Draco asked, alarmed. Blaise gave him a sickeningly sweet smile and looked at him with cold eyes.

“I was in the neighbourhood,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Thought I'd pop in to see if the rumours were true.” He eyed Malfoy with clear disdain. “Lo and behold,” He leaned against the counter, his face were mere inches away from Malfoy's. “How the mighty have fallen.”

Draco backed up a bit, flushing from both anger and shame. He looked down at his muggle clothes and swallowed hard. Blaise smirked. “It's time to end this little charade, Draco,” he said. “You're coming home.”

Draco's stiffened. His mouth was dry and he didn't trust himself to speak. Seeing Blaise dragged up so many conflicted emotions. He shook his head violently.

“I'm not going back,” he said, voice stern. “I'm never coming back, why would I?”

Blaise sneered at him. “Of course, why return to the Wizard society and reclaim your title as the proud and sole heir of the Malfoy's, when you can sit in this filthy muggle shop and serve filthy muggles?” he spat and Draco felt something stir inside of him. He straightened up and looked Blaise dead in the eye.

“Get. Out.” his voice was low and dangerous. Blaise nostril flared and he eyes narrowed.

“Excuse me?”

Draco inhaled deeply, not wavering. “You heard me, get the hell out!” he snapped. The other man looked at him in disbelief but said nothing. He took a few steps back and shook his head, looking frustrated.

“You bring shame to your family’s name,” he said. “If Lucius could see you now.” he let out a humourless laugh. Draco's eyes flashed with rage and before he himself could register what he was doing, he found himself on the floor, on the other side of the counter, on top of Blaise. He grabbed a fistful of his robes and lifted his upper body up by it, bringing their faces so close together that he could feel Blaise's harsh breath against chin.

“I couldn't give less of a damn about him! He's in Azkaban, where he should be. He doomed the family name the minute he joined your little blood purist elitist club,” he snarled hostilely. “I'm glad I left all that nonsensical crap behind me. I know better now and I am never returning. Even if the Wizengamot hadn't seized the Manor or the money I would still not return,” he spat. “Especially not with the likes of you.” He let go of Blaise's shirt, causing his upper body to slump down onto the floor. He was breathing heavily. To his frustration, Blaise looked completely unaffected by his outburst. He just started at Malfoy with a bored look plastered onto his face.

“So that's it?” he asked. “You fuck me over, Parkinson? Goyle? All of your friends because you've developed a soft spot for muggle trash?” he sneered. “Just as well. No one wants you back anyway. You think just because you've been “enlightened” you can run and join Potters little merry band of mudbloods and blood traitors? They want nothing to do with you. Or have you forgotten what's under that sleeve of yours, branded into your skin?” Draco tried not to flinch at the mention of his dark mark but Blaise didn't miss the emotion that flashed in his eyes. His grin widened. “And you just fucked your way out of the only ticket back to the high society.” He laughed as Draco stood up and followed his example. Brushing the dirty off from his fancy robes before straightening up. “We were the only ones that cared, you know? No one but us were happy when we heard that you might be alive.” he turned and walked towards the door and before leaving he gave Draco one last resentful look. “But now that I've seen the path you've chosen...” he said and shook his head. “I would've preferred to see you dead.”

And just like that, Blaise was gone.

Draco hadn't noticed that his whole body was trembling. His legs gave out from under him and he fell to his knees onto the floor. Angry tears threatened to fall from his eyes and he swallowed hard. For three years he had succeeded in keep a low profile and keep his past from catching up. He didn't understand how Blaise had managed to find him. Anger and humiliation still burned in his chest and he tried to push those feelings away.  
He had never wanted anyone from his past to see what had become of him. Even if he had worked hard to change and no longer had same ideals as he once had, part of him still felt ashamed. And he hated himself for that. A lifetime of prejudice ideals didn't just vanish overnight. It was a slow process and something Draco was still struggling with everyday. It was recognising that muggles were people; individuals who all had different ideals, morals and backgrounds. Just like in the Wizard society. It was learning that muggle-born witches and wizards and half bloods weren't inferior to him and that blood status was irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. He had been so angry and had felt so lost when he realised that everything he had been taught about the non-magical society was a lie. His world view had completely crumbled and he felt like he didn't know right from wrong any more. Everything he had been told was fallacious. He had felt like a fool.

He knew that to some extent, Blaise was right. Just because he knew better now he also knew that the people he had fought against in the war, wouldn't forgive him so easily and he could hardly blame them. He absent mindedly picked at the skin on his underarm over the sleeve. He slowly rolled it up and stared at the ugly tattoo. His arm was littered with claw marks and scarred tissue. He still suffered from nightmares about the war and about the Dark Lord. He'd wake up screaming and sweating, sometimes even crying from the memoires of what he had done during the war. He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a finger against the sore, bumpy skin. In fits of anxiety and panic attacks he'd often find himself scratching his arm violently, to the point where he drew blood. He hated the mark, he hated himself and hated his father for brainwashing and forcing his ideals on him. He felt no pride in being a Malfoy any more. He wanted to leave all of that behind him.

Sighing he realised that he should have closed up about a half hour ago. He cleaned up after himself, checking so that everything was in order and then he locked up at set the alarm.

It was dark outside and he walked along the highway, deciding against taking the shortcut through the park as there were no street lights that lit up that way. As he walked, he couldn't help it as he thoughts drifted towards Potter. He felt a grudging gratitude towards the other man, for speaking at his trial after the war. Although he didn't understand why he had done it, he didn't owe Draco anything but he had still done it. Draco hated feeling like he was indebted to Potter, although he man had told him they were even when he had returned Draco's wand after the trials, Draco still felt like he owed Potter. A small unwilling part of him wanted to become a better person to show Potter that he could and that his life had been worth saving. Years later and he was still trying to prove himself.. He still required validation. The only thing that had changed was the people he wanted validation from. Before it had been his father, the Dark Lord and other Death Eaters. Now it was Potter and his muggle friends. He felt pathetic.

Then he thought about Blaise. He had an unsettling feeling in his gut and he worried over what the man's next actions would be. Would he tell everyone about how Draco had converted to the muggle lifestyle? Would he keep it to himself or would he send a group of aurors after him? He had mentioned that everyone thought he was dead and Draco would've loved nothing more than to keep it that way. Even if he had changed his mind set about non-magical people, he still didn't want anyone to know where he was and how he was living. He knew he was no longer the wealthy and proud man he once had been, but he didn't want to give people the satisfaction of knowing that. He didn't want people to know how he had struggle to get where he was. That was part of the reason he left. No one knew what had happened with him and his mother after the trials and they kept a low profile in order to keep it that way. The Malfoy name didn't hold the same power it once had in the Wizard society and everyone knew that. They went from the top of the world to rock bottom over a night. Here, muggles didn't know what his name meant. They didn't know who he had been before the war and they didn't know the impact his name had on other wizards and witches. They didn't recognise him when he walked down the street due to his trademark Malfoy-looks and they didn't whisper and glare at him when he walked by, not any more at least. And even when they had, it had been more to do with the fact that they made assumptions due to his condition and not because they knew that he had fought on the wrong side in the war.

And that was another part he didn't want to get out. The things he had been forced to do in order to survive made him even more ashamed of himself. But he only did what he had to in order to survive. He was sure that if anyone ever found out, they would say he had it coming. They wouldn't be wrong, he thought. He often wondered how his mother would react if she had been alive to see him. He knew she would've been heartbroken over his struggle to get where he was, but he also thought that she would've been grateful for the people that had taken him under their wings and helped him. Narcissa hadn't hated muggles. Not in the way Lucius did and Draco had often suspected that his mother hadn't fully shared the ideals and morals of his father. After all, Lucius had been the one who taught Draco everything about blood-purity and how important it was that they did not interact with muggles or muggle-borns. He spoke in disgust about witches and wizards who fell in love with muggles and threw around the word “mudblood” like it was a synonym to muggle-born, rather than a slur. His mother on the other hand wouldn't say anything. She would let Lucius go on and never questioned him or protested. But Draco could see it on her. The way she would tense when his father spoke of Andromeda, the look of adoration she would get she thought no one was there to see her as she listened to muggle music and sang along.

On her deathbed she had told Draco that her biggest regrets were not standing up to her husband and losing her sister. She told Draco that she never wanted to be involved with the Dark Lord and she never wanted him to get dragged into it. “I love Lucius,” she had said. “But he got so blinded by his hatred.” She had looked so sad and Draco had hugged her. “Don't make the same mistake,” she begged him. “Don't let hatred be the only thing that keeps you going. You will destroy yourself and take everyone you love down with you if you do. Just like him.” Then she had smiled at him. “I wish I had been brave like my sister,” she had said and it took Draco a moment to realise that she wasn't talking about Bellatrix. “I see so much of her in you, Draco,” she had whispered and caressed his cheek. “Don't be a coward like me and your father. Be brave like her.”

Those had been her last words.

Draco felt his eyes sting and his heart ache at the thought of his mother. He missed her so much. Three years had passed since her death and still wasn't easy to talk or think about her. He regretted that he hadn't saved a single photo of his mother before he burned the cabin down. It had been a completely impulsive act and although he would do it again without question, he damned himself for not thinking it through a little more before he had acted. It had scared him when he one day realised that he was starting to forget what his mother had looked like. Whenever he thought about her, he only saw her as she had been before her death. So fragile and small with sunken cheeks and pale face. He didn't want to remember her like that. He wanted to remember how she had looked when she was happy. Before the war and before the Dark Lord's revival. But he was forgetting and every day the image of her became more and more faded.

Finally arriving at his flat, Draco made his way inside and stalked over to balcony door and seated himself outside on the rail. He pushed the door close and fished out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his back pocket. He lit the cigarette and inhaled the smoke. He tilted his head up and looked at the starry sky above him. He exhaled.

“I know,” he said up to the sky. “It's disgusting, but it helps.” He wet his lips before he spoke again. “Blaise came to see me today,” he told the sky. “He wanted me to come back, but I told him no.”

He sat quiet for a long time, flicking the cigarette every now and then over the balcony rail, making ashes fall down to the ground below him.

“I'm trying to brave, mother,” he whispered up to the sky. “But it's so hard.” he felt a lump in his throat as he spoke. “I miss you.” he said and finally allowed the tears that had been threatening to fall for so long, roll down his cheek.

 

*~*~*~*

 

There was silence. Harry looked between Ron and Hermione as the two of them seemed to have a staring contest.

“Can you please say something?” Ron begged his fiancée. Hermione blinked.

“I don't what to say,” she finally admitted. “I wish you would've told me earlier so that we could've fixed it together,” she looked sad when she spoke. “I'm not mad, we'll just set up a laptop with speakers and make a Spotify list, or something.” She gave him a reassuring smile but Ron didn't seem to buy it.

“Is this going to be one of those things where you say it's fine, but then the next time we have an argument about something, you'll bring it up and hold it over my head?” he asked and she rolled her eyes.

“Of course not,” she said. “I mean, yeah it's a little disappointing. It would've been nice to have live music, but I'm really not mad,” she got up from the sofa and walked over to give Ron a kiss. “You did your best and I'm proud of you,” Ron grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down to sit in his lap. She laughed and he kissed her.

“I'm really sorry,” he said earnestly. “I really wanted you to have the perfect wedding,” She gave him another kiss and replied; “It will be perfect. I'm marrying you after all.”

Harry stood up and stalked out of the living room, muttering a “gross”, under his breath. He could hear them laugh and Ron shouting “Jealousy isn't and attractive look on you!” after him. He rolled his eyes and made his way up the stairs. He got ready for bed and was just about to turn the light in ceiling off, when he heard the stairs creak, followed by footsteps. Hermione appeared in the doorway.

“Sorry, were you going to bed?” she asked, but Harry shook his head and sat down on the bed.

“It's fine, did you want to talk?” he asked and she nodded. “Come in,” he said and waved his hand. She smiled at him and closed the door behind herself before sitting down on the bed next to him.

“So,” Harry said. “You're really not mad at Ron?” he asked and she laughed, shaking her head so that the black curls of her hair bounced around her.

“I'm really not,” she said. “Honestly,” she bit her bottom lip and lowered her voice. “I kind of expected it.” She looked a bit guilty but shrugged it off. “Anyway, I actually wanted to talk to because Ginny told me about Luna. I wanted see if you're okay.” she looked at him, concern shining through her big brown eyes. Harry sat silent for a while before nodding. “Yeah,” he said. “I'm fine, I'm happy for her, honestly.” and Hermione smiled at him.

“That's good to hear,” she said. “I'll admit it was a bit of a shock. But I'm happy for her too. You both deserve to be with someone you love,” she looked at Harry, titling her head. “Do you have anyone special you'd like to bring to the wedding? It's not a bother, if that's the case.”

Harry shook his head. “No, I think I'm going to hold off on the whole dating thing,” he said. “I mean, don't get me wrong; it would've been nice to have someone. I just don't think I'm ready to throw myself out there yet.” he explained and Hermione hummed in agreement.

“I can understand that,” she said and put at hand on his shoulder. “But you will find someone, Harry,” she looked so serious that Harry had to laugh.

“I hope so.” he said with a smile.

“You will,” she sounded confident. “And whoever she is, we're going to love her. Because we love you and we want you to be happy.”

Before he could stop himself he added; “Or him.” and Hermione looked stunned for a second before smiling and correcting herself. “Or him.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while before Harry spoke. “So, Spotify, huh?” and Hermione burst out laughing.

“Thank god for technology,” she giggled and Harry joined in, laughing as well. “I need to give my parents a call tomorrow, so that they know that they can cancel with the equipment.” she said, more to herself than to Harry when they finally calmed down. “I'll let you sleep now, good night!” she gave him and hug and Harry wished her a good night as well. He waved his wand and was embraced by darkness. Sleep followed soon after that.

 

*~*~*~*

 

“Welcome to H-ear, how may I help you?” Draco greeted when he answered the stores phone.

“Hi,” a feminine voice said. “I was look for Mr Gordon,” they said.

“He's not here today unfortunately,” Draco said, voice friendly. “Is there anything I can assist you with or would you like me to take a message and have him call you back when he's free?”

“No, I mean. You can just tell him that we won't be needing the equipment this Saturday. He'll know what I'm talking about.”

Draco's memory stirred. “Oh, yeah, I was going to help the transportation on that, wedding reception right?” he asked and hoped he didn't overstep. But the person on the other line answered in a kind voice.

“Yes, exactly!”

“That's too bad, do you mind if I ask why?”

“Not at all,” they said. “We thought we would have a band playing, but unfortunately we don't,” the person sighed and Draco's interest peaked.

“So you need to cancel because you don't have a band to play at the wedding reception, am I correct?” he asked.

“Yes,” he got for a replay. He gnawed on his bottom lip, hesitating before speaking.

“What if told you I might know of a band who'd be more than happy to play at the reception, would that interest you?” he asked carefully and half expected the person on the other end to hang up on him. But they didn't. Instead they let out an enthusiastic gasp.

“We would absolutely love that!” they said, sounding over the moon. “Are you sure they're available at such short notice?” they asked and Draco smiled.

“Well, I can only speak for myself,” he said and he could hear the person on the other end go; “oh”, as they seemed to realise what Draco was actually saying. “We were going to help Mr Gordon with transportation any way,” he explained. “So I don't think they'll have any problem with staying a few hours to play.”

“That would be wonderful!”

“Great, so we'll just come by with the equipment like planned then and play some songs. However seeing as it's such short notice we might not have time to learn any new ones, but if you have any request I'll gladly write it down and see if it's accomplishable.”

“What kind of music do you play?” the person asked, sounding a little anxious.

“Anything, really. We do covers of popular songs, just because it's always fun for people who listen if they know the songs and we're used to playing at different events where the audience is made up of various different people of all ages.”

“That sounds perfect. Do you think you could have a few songs that are only instrumental as well? Maybe if someone plays the piano, if they can play a piece?”

“Absolutely,” Draco said in a heartbeat. “What did you have in mind?”

 

*~*~*~*

 

“I can't believe your mother managed to get a band after one phone call, while I've been trying for months!” Ron complained loudly.

“Why do you sound so upset? I thought you'd be happy,” Hermione frowned. Ron shook his head.

“Don't think it's weird, though?” Harry asked over his morning coffee. “Who are these people?”

“I don't think it weird, I think it's great,” Hermione said stubbornly. “They are friends with the guy who we were going to rent the equipment from. Apparently, when my mother called in to cancel he wasn't there, so she spoke to someone else who worked there.” She explained and scooped up some muesli and oat-milk with her spoon and shoved it into her mouth. After swallowing she continued. “She told him that they needed to cancel because we didn't have band to play and he just offered!”

“But what if they're no good?” Ron said anxiously.

“She said that they apparently play at all sorts of events. I don't think they would get any bookings if they were terrible,” Hermione said.

“How much are they charging?” Harry asked, he didn't know why but he could feel in his gut that there was something going on here.

“They're not.” She just said.

“What?”

“Yeah I don't know, she just said that he had said something about owning Mr Gordon a favour, and since my mother was his friend,” she didn't finish her sentences but gave a meaningful look. “He did say something about donations though,” she said thoughtfully.

“Didn't you say it was your mother's friends aunts cousin-” Harry began, trying to remember what she had said yesterday.

“Yeah, turns out he's like a distant relative to my mothers best friend, but that's not how they met,” she said waved her hand dismissively. “My mother did a lot of charity work when she was younger and worked a lot with his parents. She meet him again just a few months ago and they both remembered each other. She told him I was getting married and he told her that he was the manager at a music store and said that if they needed to rent any music equipment he would be happy to do it and mother took him up on that.”

“If that band is so popular why would he just offer to come here and play for free?” Ron asked in disbelief.

Hermione said. “Look,” she said, rubbing her temples. “Your guess is as good as mine, but I trust my mother's judgement. If she says they're legit, I trust that. If it turns out to be a total fiasco we'll just send them away. We're not paying for anything but the equipment so honestly, what's the harm?”

“The harm,” Ron pressed out. “Is that we're having five complete strangers coming to our wedding. We don't even know what kind of music they play!” he threw his hands up in exasperation. “What if they get here and starts playing and it's all growling and screaming?”

“If they were that kind of band I doubt he would have offered in the first place, seeing as he was well aware of the fact that it's a wedding reception,” Hermione replied skeptically. “Besides, my mother was very clear on what type of music she wanted. She put in some request and the guy was totally fine with it.”

“Listen,” she said after a while, sounding pleading. “I've only met Mr Gordon once, but he is a great guy. He does a lot of charity work, just like his parents did as well as volunteer work at different shelters, and if he likes them, it's probably because they're good people. I know it's weird and really short notice and a huge risk. But it's a risk I'm willing to take. So can you please just trust me?” Ron looked at her for a long time before he let out a defeated sigh.

“Fine,” he mumbled. “But if everything turns to a shit-show, I will not hesitate to tell you I told you so.”

Hermione squealed and delight and hugged him. “I'll allow it,” she said with a huge grin.

“Is there anyway for us to meet them beforehand though? Just to be sure?” Harry pressed.

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think you could just swing by the store, honestly. H-ear. Gordon’s the manager there and like I said, the guy mother talked to worked there so I'd say that's your best bet.”

Harry turned to Ron. “What do you think? Should we pop by and say hello?” Ron looked at Hermione and then smiled softly.

“Nah, I think we're good,” he said.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Harry decided to go anyway. Currently standing outside the store H-ear, he hesitated for a few moments before entering. It was quiet inside and almost completely empty. A woman stood behind the counter, looking bored as she flipped through a magazine. Harry approached her. She looked up and smiled when she saw him.

“Welcome to H-ear, how may I be of service?” she asked and Harry cast a glance at her name tag. “Maya”, it read.

“Hello, Maya,” Harry greeted her in a friendly tone. “A friend of mine called in this morning and got in contact with a man who said he had a band and offered to play at their wedding reception,” Harry explained shortly, he gave her crooked smile and scratched the back of his head. “I guess I just wanted to maybe meet this person beforehand, just to make sure there won't be any misunderstanding.”

She hummed, nodding and smiling before she spoke. “You mean you wanted to make sure we weren't freaks?” Her eyes gleamed playfully. “That's understandable. I didn't make the booking. That was Drake, but he just went out for lunch, so he won't be back for another hour. But, as the lead-guitarist I think I'm in a pretty good position to answer any question you might have.” She winked at him and Harry blushed furiously as he had not realised that she was one of the members.

“I mean no offense,” Harry began, but Maya smiled and waved her hand dismissively.

“None taken,” she said lightly. “So, what do you want to know?”

 

*~*~*~*

 

Draco returned to H-ear after his lunch. When he entered, Maya greeted him.

“You just missed the cutest guy,” she informed him and Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” he asked, not actually interested, but he didn't want to seem unfriendly.

“He's apparently the best man at that wedding you booked us to play at. He wanted to stop by and make sure we were legit,” she told him and Draco frowned.

“What did you tell him?” He asked.

“Just basic stuff really. But I played a few audio recordings I have from rehearsal and he was really impressed!” she smiled proudly and Draco nodded.

“That's good,” Draco said and walked over to stand behind the counter with her. She jumped up and seated herself on in, swinging her short legs back and forth as she couldn't reach the floor.

“He was so adorable and shy,” she sighed dreamily. “He had really curly black hair, brown skin, big beautiful green eyes and wore glasses that were way too big for him.”

Draco froze. “What was his name?” he asked stiffly and Maya's eyes widened. She cursed.

“I completely forgot to ask him his name!” she looked miserable for a few seconds. “I'll have to ask him when we're at the wedding reception. He just has one of those faces, you know?”

She went on talking about him, but Draco tuned out. Curly black hair, green eyes, glasses. It couldn't be. No. There was no way it was him. They were playing at a muggle wedding, so it couldn't possibly have been Harry Potter. But the description had been spot on. Brown skin, black hair and green eyes weren't a common combination. He felt something twist in his gut but told himself that he was being paranoid. The encounter with Blaise had really put Draco on edge and had been nervous and jumpy all day.

No, Draco decided that he most definitely was just being paranoid and that there was no way the man who had been in here, had been Harry Potter.

*~*~*~*  
“They were actually surprisingly talented,” Harry told Ginny. He had went to the Burrow after his visit to help with decorations.

“You went there?” Hermione asked surprised. Harry nodded.

“I just wanted to be sure,” he said and gave her a reassuring smile. “The girl I talked to was really cool and she played some recordings she had on her phone. It actually sounded really awesome,” he told them and both girls smiled at each other.

“That must be a relief,” Ginny said and Hermione shrugged.

“I wasn't that worried, but I'm glad I finally have your approval,” she directed the second part of that sentence to Harry and he blushed.

“Hey, I'm just doing my job as the best man,” he said and both Ginny and Hermione laughed. “She played this one recording she had of this guy, he was playing the piano. It was so beautiful,” he told them. “I don't know shit about music, but I could tell that the guy's a genius. The song she played was apparently something he had composed himself,” Harry shook his head. “I was speechless. And that's not even half of it! Apparently he's a bass player and a singer! Merlin, that voice-”

Hermione and Ginny exchanged glances before they both started grinning and Harry stopped talking and looked between them in suspicion. “What?” he asked slightly annoyed. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“It kind of sounds like you have a crush on this guy,” Ginny teased and Hermione giggled. Harry's mouth fell open.

“I do not!” he sputtered defensibly.

“Hey, I'm not blaming you. Musicians are hot,” Ginny said and held up her hands.

“You haven't even seen the guy. And neither have I, for that matter,” Harry said skeptically.

“Talent is always sexy,” Ginny said as a matter of fact and Harry rolled his eyes.

“I don't have a crush, I'm allowed to admire someone who clearly is a talented musician.”

Hermione hummed. “You're totally in awe of the guy and haven't even met him,” she said amused and Harry threw up his hands in exasperation.

“He's a good musician!” He pressed loudly and both she and Ginny started laughing again.

“Calm down, we're just teasing you,” Ginny said. “But if it would turn out that he isn't half bad-looking, would you go for it?” Harry tried to fight down the blush that crept up his face.

“I..I guess?” he mumbled embarrassed and Ginny slapped him on the back, a bit to hard.

“Don't worry, I'll be your wingman!” she said and smiled brightly at him.

Harry rolled his eyes at her. He was not looking forward to that.

 

*~*~*~*

 

The rest of the week passed in a blur and before they knew it, it was Saturday.

“Make right a turn up at the next exit,” Draco said, holding the phone as he read the GPS and guided them to their location. After a few more minutes they slowed down.

“This must be it,” Timothy said and stopped outside a giant blue house that was decorated with flowers and balloons everywhere. “They said to set up in the backyard. There's supposed to be a stage there.”

They got out of the car and started to unload the equipment. They were the only ones there and Draco assumed it was because they wanted them to start playing as soon as everyone had arrived.

“Great work, guys!” Aiden called. “Oh, and Drake, will you do your usual speech. I got an ok from the bride and the groom to talk a bit about the shelter and about making donations.” Draco nodded. It was standard for them that Draco spoke a bit between the songs while the rest of the band got set. He would keep it short; mention the shelter, how they had helped him and how important their work was for people who found themselves in a similar situation. He would mention that if they wanted to know more, or make any donations they could either speak to Aiden or visit the website. It was always a huge success and greatly appreciated amongst the audiences.

“Yeah, of course,” Draco said as he set up the microphones.

The sounds of cars driving up the driveway could soon be heard and Draco felt butterfly in his stomach. Pre-show jitters, he noted to himself and tried to calm down. “You've done this a thousand times before,” he mumbled to himself. Then something caught his eyes that made his heart drop to his feet. It was a banner. But it was the writing on the banner that made him sick to his stomach.

“CONGRATULATIONS ON THE MARRIAGE, MRS & MR GRANGER-WEASLEY!” It said with big, bold letters. Draco's mouth felt dry and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. No. No. This could not be right. Granger and Weasley. A witch and a wizard. It didn't make sense, Draco thought. Why would they-

Oh.

When the realisation dawned on him, Draco panicked. That meant that the person who had been in the store asking about them was Potter.

He felt like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over him. He had to get out of there before anyone saw him. He jumped down from the stage and hurriedly walked to the front lawn. He wasn't sure where he was going but he needed to get out there before it was too late. He cast a glance behind him to make sure no one had seen him leave or was following him. Too busy worrying for himself. he didn't realise where he was walking until he collided with someone. The person was sturdy enough not to fall. Draco on the other hand, landed on his butt.

“Sorry mate-... Malfoy?”

The sound of his name made his head snap up and he felt dread wash over him as he made eye contact with none other than Ron Weasley. Behind him, wearing a long, white wedding dress, stood Granger, looking at him with a completely blank expression and next to her, stood Potter, looking furious. Before Draco had the chance to say anything he was hauled up by the front of his shirt by Weasley. He dragged Draco into the house, Granger and Potter following closely behind him. Once inside he shoved Draco into the nearest room and slammed the door shut. All three of them got their wands out and pointed them directly at Draco. His eyes studied the three of them and he huffed arrogantly before putting his hands up in surrender. He raised an eyebrow at Granger.

“Where were you keeping that?” he had to ask, looking at her wand. But before she could replay, Ron punched him. In the face.

Draco stumbled backwards but managed to keep his balance.

“Don't you dare speak to my wife, you filthy mutt!” Ron snarled at him. Draco touch his lip with one finger when he felt something wet against his bottom lip, it didn't take a genius to figure out it was blood. He looked at Weasley, trying to keep his cool, he let out a sigh.

“You know what? I came here to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. He knew he shouldn't be antagonising them, but it was the best defence he had right now.

He was rewarded with another punch. This time it was right in the gut and it caused him to fall to his knees. Draco groaned in pain.

“Answer the question, Malfoy!” Potter snapped at him. Draco glared daggers at him at said nothing for a while. When he saw Weasley getting ready to punch him again he held his hands up.

“Fine, fine,” he snapped. “I'm here to play,” he said miserably. There was a moment of silence. Then Weasley kicked him, right in the stomach. Draco fell onto his side and moaned.

“What was that for?” he gritted out furiously.

“For being a lying git!” the ginger snapped at him turned him onto his back, pressing the tip of the wand against Draco's throat. “Truth. Now.”

Draco swallowed. “I _am_ telling you the truth,” he spat, glare intact. “I'm with the band.” The tip of the wand pressed in harder into the skin on his throat. “I don't have a wand,” he continued when he realised they weren't satisfied with his answer. “You can search me,” he offered grudgingly.

The trio exchanged looks before Weasley pulled him up to his feet, while Granger and Potter had their wands pointed at him. “Put your hands behind your head,” Ron ordered and Draco obliged. Potter approached him and started to pat him down harshly. When he hunched down to pat up and down his leg, Draco snorted.

“Buy a guy dinner first, Potter.” He drawled and received a smack at the back of his head from Weasley.

“Shove it, Malfoy.” Potter spat. When he was done he turned to Granger. “No wand,” he said and Draco smirked.

“Told you.” he leered. Before he could blink he was shoved up against the wall by Potter. He pressed his arm against Draco's throat, trapping him against the wall and the tip of his wand pressed into his cheek.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't hex you right here and now,” he growled and Draco struggled against him.

“Only one? I can think of at least two,” Draco snarled back sarcastically. “There are muggles here, Potter and I'm sure the bride would be heartbroken if she had to Obliviate everyone. Weddings are typically a thing people like to remember.” He was struggling to breathe, but forced himself to continue talking. “Second, I'm not here alone. Like I said, I'm with the band. Surely they're going to wonder why their bass player and lead singer is suddenly unable to perform.”

Just as he said that, voices could be heard right outside. “Drake? Hello?” someone called and everyone went quiet until they could hear footsteps leading away. Draco took this opportunity to push Potter off him.

“Listen,” he snapped. “Had I known whose wedding this was, I wouldn't have come. I'm not here to cause any trouble. I'm here to play. So if you _brutes_ could _kindly_ let me go out there and do _my fucking job_ , it would be highly appreciated. After that I'll get out of your hair.”

They all looked at each other in hesitation before Granger finally nodded slowly in approval. Draco straightened his suit and wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand. He was just about to leave when Potter grabbed him hard by his upper arm.

“If you try anything, Malfoy, I promise you, I will personally be the one who throws you into Azkaban.”

Draco didn't say anything and when Potter let go of his arm, he left.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Hermione cupped her mouth and tried not to start crying. “He's going to ruin everything,” she whispered behind her hands. She sat down on her parents bed and did her best to keep the tears from falling. “What the fuck are we going to do?” she whispered helplessly. Ron sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug.

“I'm not going to let him ruin our special day,” he promised. “We can just tell them to leave.”

“Should we contact someone?” Harry asked. Hermione shook her head.

“I don't want to cause a scene, I can' deal with that right now,” she sighed. “We'll just wait. Afterwards you can contact Shacklebolt, I'm sure he'd love to know that Malfoy's still alive.”

“Where has he been hiding all this time?” Ron asked baffled. “Seriously, three years of no sightings and suddenly,” he shook his head.

“He's up to something, I'm sure of it,” Harry said. “We won't do anything, for now. But we should stay alert. In case he tries something.” The newly weds nodded in agreement.

“Are you okay to go outside?” Ron asked Hermione. She bit her lower lip before giving a nod.

“Yeah, let's go.”

 

*~*~*~*

 

Outside the band was getting ready. Draco was on stage, tuning the bass. They had been told to do a few songs before the cake would be served and then continue after that. When he was done tuning the bass, he put it down. He didn't know why he had started tuning it, he wasn't going to use it immediately anyway and by the time he would he'd probably have to tune it again.

All the guests had arrived and Draco could see Potter, Granger and Weasley in the crowed. He tried his best not to focus on them. He felt exposed and embarrassed about playing in front of people who knew him. He scanned the crowed for more familiar faces. The entire Weasley family was there, obviously and everyone looked furious. He could also see Lovegood, Longbottom, Thomas and Finnegan. He gritted his teeth and told himself to stay calm.

He approached the microphone stand and cleared his throat. Everyone turned to look at him and he couldn't bring himself to look up when he spoke.

“Hellu,” he greeted and got very few hellos back. He swallowed before continuing. “We're here to play some music for you. And I'm going to start by asking the bride and the groom to take the floor and have their first dance together as husband and wife.” He didn't bother to look and see if Granger and Weasley actually did walk up to the dance floor, which was really just a huge plastic blanket laid out a few feet in front of the stage. He seated himself in front of the electric piano, took a deep breath and started playing.

It was a slow and beautiful piece that the person who had called in (Draco now suspected might have been Granger's mother) had requested. “Kiss the Rain” it was called and she had said that she knew they would like it as a first song to dance to.

Draco could feel himself calm down as he played. Focusing only on his fingers and feet, he let go of everything else that bothered him. He forgot where he was and he no longer cared who was watching. He felt a warmth spread itself inside his entire body and he embraced it. Closing his eyes every now and then and trusting his fingers to make no errors.

When the last tone rang out and he turned to face the audience he was surprised when not only saw that Granger and Weasley had gotten up and danced, but also that they were applauding. Draco's eyes feel to his feet and he took a bow before the rest of the band got up.

He took his bass and approached the microphone. He spoke shortly, mentioning only the songs name and then composer and then went on to introduce the rest of band. Maya took over the microphone after that Draco went a bit to the side to another microphone, as he was only doing backup vocals for the next song, When everyone was ready, he counted them in and started playing, “Love me Like you Do”. When it came to the chores the first time, he was the only one who sang back-up. Maya sang the first chores low and when they began on it again, the second time around she raised it an octave and belted out the words. Now everyone was helping with the back-up vocals, adding dynamic to the song. Maya belted out a few phrases every now and then while the other kept repeating the words of the song.

To Draco's surprise, more people were making their way over to the dance floor. Dancing, singing along, smiling and laughing. He felt something inside of him stir and when he turned and made eye contact with Maya, his face broke out into smile.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Harry stared at the band in awe. They were all extremely talented, including Malfoy. Observing the young man on stage as his fingers worked he bass and he sang into the microphone. Harry had been completely baffled when Malfoy had seated himself in front of the piano and began playing. He had tried to not look impressed but it had been hard and the way Malfoy had looked when he had been playing had been almost mesmerizing. He had looked so at peace. Face void of any sneering or glaring he suddenly looked almost vulnerable. And now, as he was singing and playing, he was actually smiling. He wore a genuinely happy expression on his face. Harry had never seen this side of him and suddenly his gut twisted as he realised that he was looking at Draco Malfoy, and for the first time he saw him as a human being. Not as the bully he had been in school, or as a Death Eater, but as an actually person. Looking closer at him, Harry couldn't help but note that the years hadn't exactly been unkind to him. He was still all limbs and sharp edges with his pointy chin, nose and high cheekbones, but there was something soft about him at the same time.

The song ended and Harry snapped out of his trance-like state and started applauding along with everyone else. Maya thanked them before switching places with Malfoy. She took the guitar and they counted in.

This time, Malfoy was singing. His eyes were closed and his voice rang out loud and clear through the speakers.

Ron approached him, looking as bewildered as the rest of the Weasley's and former Hogwarts students.

“Is this actually happening?” He hissed. “Am I dreaming? Pinch me,” he held out his arm and Harry pinched him. “Ow,” he hissed and then looked around.

“Nope, you're awake,” Harry said and Ron shook his head.

“I can't tell if this is just a huge prank or not. I asked George but he was just as furious about seeing him here. Wanted me to contact the Aurors and have someone come and get him,” Ron told him.

“It's not a bad idea,” Harry replied, glancing over to the stage and his friend nodded.

“We're serving cake after this, keep an eye on him when he goes off stage.”

“Of course,” Harry patted Ron on the back as he left to join Hermione.

The song ended and the band gave their thanks and took a bow. Harry observed as Malfoy put the bass away and then jumped down from the stage. He slowly made his way over. Careful not to get noticed, he sneaked after him, keeping his distance but never letting him out of his sight. When he heard voices he stopped to listen.

“-can't do it, I'm sorry.” Malfoy's voice said.

“Are you sure?” Another voice said, Harry assumed it belonged to a man. “You don't have to if you're not up for it, of course, I'm just surprised.”

“I'm sorry, I know it's important, but I can't.” Malfoy said and Harry frowned, wondering what they were talking about. He didn't have time to ponder as the other man said; “Okay, well, no worries then! Let's go and see if we can sneak some cake,” and Harry ducked away before he could be seen.

He made his way back to where the tables we placed out and took a seat.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Draco was standing, leaning against the house and observed as the couple cut the cake, or cakes, as there were two of them for some reason. Speeches had been made and everyone seemed to be crying. He felt misplaced and uncomfortable and really, really wanted to leave. His body was still aching from the several punches Weasley had thrown at him and he felt on edge. He knew he didn't have anything to worry about, for now. After all, there were several muggles there and he knew no one would be stupid enough to pull out their wand. As long as he kept himself in the most crowded places, he was safe. What worried him was what would happen after. Would the Aurors come knocking on his door? Would everyone find out about his whereabouts and come after him? He felt his chest tighten at the thought of having to relocate and start over again.

Suddenly Potter appeared in front of him. Draco glared at him.

“What?” he snapped when Potter just stared at him. The man just shrugged in response.

“I'm just trying to make sense of all this, Malfoy.” he said. “And I can't. You're obviously up to something-”.

Draco snorted and looked at him contempt. “Don't presume to know me,” he snapped. “If you're so worried, why don't call your little auror friends and have them take me in?” Potter's eyes narrowed and his glare turned icy.

“Maybe I will,” he said, voice low and threatening. Draco rolled his eyes but felt his body involuntarily tense.

“I'm just here to play,” he gritted, jaw clenching. “How many time do I have to tell you that?”

“About a thousand more, but I still wouldn't believe you,” Potter said and crossed his arms over his chest.

Draco huffed and looked away. “Whatever. We'll do a few more songs and then I'll be out of your hair.” he said and glared at Potter when he let out a humourless laugh.

“You think it's going to be that easy, Malfoy?” he sneered at him. Draco felt his whole face flush in anger.

“I'm just here to do my job,” Draco barked. “After this, I'll leave you alone and you leave me alone.”

Harry shook his head. “You honestly think you can just return to whatever cushy life you're living after a stunt like this?” Potter said.

“What stunt?!” Draco was losing his temper. “I didn't know who we were playing for, if I had I never would've offered in first place!”

“So why did you?”

Draco faltered. “What?”

“Why did you offer?”

Draco stared at Potter, mouth opening and closing. He looked conflicted and then he looked mad.

“I don't have to explain myself to you,” he spat.

“No, but you might want to think about the answer to that before we get the Aurors here, I'm sure they're going to have a lot of questions.” he said and that's when Draco snapped. He grabbed Potter by the shirt and pulled him closer, so that their faces were mere inches apart.

“Listen, Potter,” he growled. “I don't know what you think, but first of all; I have done nothing wrong. I've worked hard to establish a life here and will fight tooth and nail to keep it.” He let go of Harry. “I had nothing when I came here, nothing,” he hissed. “I had no one to turn to-”.

“Oh, boo freaking hoo,” Potter snapped. “You want me to feel sorry for you? You put yourself in that position.”

Draco's face went red with anger. “Don't you think I know that?” he practically screamed, no longer caring that he was causing a scene. “I fucking know that, Potter, believe me. No one is more aware of that than me! But I've worked hard to get where I am. I have a job, I have friends-”

“You have minions, Malfoy. That's not the same thing as friends.” Potter sneered. Draco shook his head in disbelief.

“You have no idea what you're talking about,” he said, almost in a whisper.

“I think I do actually. You think just because, what, made friends with a few muggles that all is forgiven?” Draco flinched. “It's not. You're a coward, Malfoy. You ran away because you couldn't deal with the consequences of your actions. You hid yourself amongst people who didn't who you were and therefore couldn't judge you.” Potter took a step closer. “The thing is,” he said, voice low. “Maybe you can run away from your problems. But you can never outrun who you truly are. And I might have spoken for you at the trials, but I will not hesitate to throw you into Azkaban, with your father, when you slip up.”

Draco felt numb. He just stared at Potter.”Fuck you,” was all he said before he walked off.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Harry stared after Malfoy as he stormed off.

“Maybe you shouldn't be so hard on him?” A soft voice spoke from behind and he spun around to see Luna. She gave him a sweet smile and Harry raised an eyebrow.

“And why is that?” he asked. “He's a git. Always have been, always will be. He hasn't changed.”

Luna tipped her head to the side and gave him a thoughtful look. “Are you sure about that?” she asked. “Cause the person I've seen today is nothing like the person I saw when we went to Hogwarts.”

Harry shook his head. “It's an act,” he said surely. “He hasn't _actually_ changed, people like him never do.”

Luna hummed. “I think you're underestimating him, Harry,” she said in a kind, but confident voice. “and I think you're underestimating how hard it can be for a person to change,” she looked over to Malfoy. “I actually spoke a bit with Mr Gordon and he talked very highly of Draco. Or Drake. I think he's been working very hard redeem himself these last three years. We should give him some credit it for it.”

“Yeah let's reward him for being a decent fucking human being,” Harry mumbled under his breath and was surprised when he heard Luna laugh at that.

“Well, why not?” she asked lightly. “Why shouldn't we reward good behaviour?”

“Of course we should, but not when it comes from people like him. He's only being decent to look good in public.”

“So you mean people who are actually, truly good will do good things and expect nothing in return?”

 Harry thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, I guess so.” Luna nodded.

“Like how he offered a complete stranger to play at their wedding reception with his band when he heard they were in dire need of one and refused to take money for it?”

Harry froze. Luna smiled and gave him a meaningful look. “Exactly,” she said.

So maybe she did have a point, Harry thought. Still, he wasn't completely convinced that Malfoy wasn't up to something, but maybe he could give him the benefit of a doubt. Maybe it wasn't impossible that he had changed. Harry let out a sigh.

“I see your point,” he said. “And maybe you are right, maybe he has changed.”

Luna looked up at the sky. When she spoke again, her voice sounded haunted. “When I was captured and brought to the manor, Draco's visits were the only thing that kept me sane. Sometimes he brought food down, even though he knew he could get in trouble.” she turned her head to look at him again. “He's not evil, I don't think he ever was. Part of you must've believed that when you testified for him at his trial.”

Again, she had a point. Malfoy was a lot of things; a git, too sarcastic for his own good and just at general annoyance to Harry. But he wasn't evil. When it all came down to it he had saved Harry's life.

“It's not that easy for me to just accept that he's somehow a better person, all of a sudden,” he finally said. “Too much stuff has gone down between us,” his mind flashed with images of Malfoy, sneering and taunting. “I can't just forget all that.” he said, fists clenching.

“No one's asking you to forget,” said Luna. “I'm just saying; don't be too hard on him. That's all.” A moment of silence dragged by before she continued. “And, maybe, if he's trying to stay out of trouble, the least you can do is avoid getting him into it.” She looked at him and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, fine.” he said and sighed in defeat.

*~*~*~*

Draco was still shaking from rage. He made his way to the front lawn, just to get away from everyone. He sat down on the porch and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He put one in his mouth and lit it. He slowly felt himself relax as he inhaled the nicotine.

“You shouldn't smoke,” Draco looked up and to his surprise he, saw Granger. He snorted at her.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” He drawled. “Cancer and all that shit, believe me; I've heard it all before.”

She looked hesitant for a moment before she spoke. “Well, yeah, that's obvious. But I was thinking more what a shame it would if you were to ruin your voice.” Draco looked surprised at her. “You're a really talented singer, Malfoy.” She said, earnestly. Draco was too stunned to think of anything to say. Instead he just flicked the cigarette and turned his face away.

“You should go,” he said to her. “I don't want to risk getting punched by your husband. Again.” Hermione snorted at that.

“You were antagonising him,” she said and Draco put up his hands defensively.

“I just asked a very legitimate question,” he protested. Taking a drag from his cigarette he spoke as he exhaled the smoke. “Where were you keeping that wand of yours?” Granger's eyes seemed to gleam playfully before she sat down next to him.

“A lady never kisses and tells,” she said as a matter of fact. Draco looked offended.

“Well that's not fair,” he said. “For starters I didn't even get a kiss.”

He was almost startled when Granger actually laughed at that. He gave her a very cautious smile. He leaned forward in spoke in a low voice.

“Can you at least pretend like you're hitting on?” he asked and Granger stared at him in disbelief. “I'm getting some serious vibes from Wendy in there,” he said and gestured to the house. “If she asked me to bed I wouldn't have the heart to turn her down.” Granger looked at him suspiciously before she turned around to see who he was talking about. Her mouth well opened and she started laughing again.

“Gross, that's my great aunt,” she said and wrinkled her nose as she continued to laugh. Suddenly she stopped laughing and looked at him, a bit puzzled. “Wait,” she began slowly. “How did you know her name was Wendy?” her eyes widened. “Did you talk to her?”

“Lovely lady,” he said in confirmation and smirked as he took another inhalation of his cigarette. “Never met anyone quiet so passionate about raccoons,” he informed her in an amused tone. Granger looked baffled.

“You're aware that she's a muggle right?” she asked slowly and Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

“You mean; Am I mentally capable of processing simplex information that then permits me to put two and two together and form a very elementary hypothesis? Yes, yes I am.” he said and gave her a self-satisfied smirk but Granger didn't seem annoyed. Instead she just stared at him, blinking. Then she leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand, still looking at him.

“You've really changed, haven't you?” It wasn't a question as much as an observation and Draco looked away in discomfort.

“Not if you were to ask Potter,” he said and smiled bitterly.

“You can't blame him, Malfoy. You were rather vocal about your opinions back at Hogwarts,” her gaze fell and Draco sighed.

“I know,” he said after a while. “For what it's worth though,” he began and she looked up at him. He made eye contact with her before he continued. “I really am sorry. About everything.” His gaze was intense and Granger looked at him for a long time before she spoke.

“Thank you, Malfoy. I really appreciate hearing you say that.” she said earnestly. Draco gave a curt nod and looked away.

“I'm smart,” Draco said suddenly and Granger raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, obviously you were better, academically,” he added quickly. “But what I mean is,” he struggled and had to take a moment to think before he continued speaking.

“I thought I knew everything, but then I came here and it turns out; I know nothing!” he gave a humourless laugh. “Everything I had been taught about the muggle world was wrong. I was living in a bubble and I didn't even realise it. Everything I knew was a lie and,” he sighed and shook his head. “for the first time in my life I felt stupid.” he frowned. “I mean, I know I've done a lot of stupid things but this was the first I actually felt stupid.” He flicked his cigarette. “I had to re-evaluate my entire fucking life. And that was hard. And fucking scary,” he gave another humourless chuckle.

“And you know, it still is. It's not easy to change your mind-set. When it's been so heavily engraved into your brain that you're suppose to think one way, only realise that it's complete bullshit.” he sounded frustrated, but then he actually started smiling.

"I mean, I never realised that there was so much I didn't know! Cars are horrible. They're amazing, truly fascinating, but they're fucking scary. I can't ride in the back seat. I did it once and I actually puked," he laughed, eyes gleaming as he spoke. "My first phone I broke within seconds of getting it because mrbdsmbooty153 said on the internet that if you microwave it, it charges faster. Got a mouthful from Maya after that. Apparently it's common knowledge that you can't trust anyone on the internet and when I tried to report it, the 911 operator hung up on me," Granger laughed.

"And the internet!" Draco almost shouted in excitement as his smile widened. "I don't understand it, I'm completely clueless as to how it works but it's amazing! You can find anything! You can actually buy stuff, from the comfort of your own home! I went on a shopping spree and bought a bunch of different stuff. I don't know why. I didn’t need them and I'm probably never going to use them but it was so thrilling! Just being able to do that. And phones!" Draco whipped out his phone and waved it around. "These little bastard are amazing! And television and video games, brilliant! And all of these things were invented by muggles." He looked at Hermione, seeming to be in complete awe. "It's amazing. Muggles are amazing. I think the Wizarding world could learn I think or two from them.” When he was done raving he actually lowered his gaze and flushed a little.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just went full on nerd, didn't I?” Granger smiled softly at him.

“I think it's nice,” she said. “People really tend to underestimate how hard it can be for a person to change. You've done a really good job, Malfoy.”

“I've lived here for about three years now, and everyday I seem to learn something new. It's amazing and fucking terrifying. But so worth it.” he leaned back smiled, looking up at the clear blue sky.

When he looked back at Granger she seemed to be deep in thought. She sat quiet for a long time, looking hesitant. Then she spoke.

“Have you been in contact with anyone in the Wizarding World since you left?” she asked carefully. Draco looked thoughtful for a moment before he shook his head.

“Not really,” he said slowly. “But Blaise Zabini paid me a visit the other day,” he told her and Granger's eyes widened a bit in surprise.

“Really?” she asked and Draco hummed.

“Wanted me to come back, “join the high society again”, as he put it.” Granger looked at him curiously.

“What did you tell him?” Draco looked at her and seemed to consider his words before he spoke.

“I told him to shove his blood purist bullshit up his ass,” he said with a smirk and Granger burst out laughing.

“You did not,” she said, but didn't look entirely convinced and Draco chuckled lightly.

“Okay, maybe I didn't express myself quite as colourful, but he certainly got the point,” he said, leaning forward. “So, anything fun happened while I was gone? Zabini said everyone thinks I'm dead,” Granger hummed in confirmation.

“Everyone thought you died in the fire,” she said thoughtfully. “What exactly happened that day?” she asked and Draco shrugged.

“I burned it down,” he just said Granger blinked.

“Why?” she asked. Another shrug.

“Cause it was fucking ugly?” Draco tried, but Granger didn't buy it and just raised an eyebrow at him as she gave him a meaningful look. He sighed in defeat.

“I don't know,” he finally said honestly. “It was an impulsive decision and I wasn't exactly in my right mind when I made it. But I don't regret it.” he said firmly. “I guess,” he continued. “If you want to get all deep and philosophical, it was kind of like a way for me to regain control of my life. The Wizengamot took all our belongings and placed us there, keeping a watchful eye on us. They put this charm on us,” he turned around and lifted his hair, showing off the back his neck where a small circle was etched into the skin and he could hear Granger gasp.

“This way, all of our magical activity could be traced, so if we tried to flee the country by Apparation or Portkey, they could still catch us. Cause you know, they never actually thought that a _Malfoy_ would retreat to the muggle world and give up on magic. So I did just that.” he shrugged. “I couldn't stay there after my mother's death and all that fucking cabin did was remind me of what a failure I was to allow all of this to happen. I lost the one person in the world that actually cared about me, and all because I was a stupid fucking teenager with daddy issues.” he let out a bitter laugh and Granger visibly flinched.

He didn't know why he was telling her all this. Maybe because this was the first time someone who actually knew who he was wanted to talk to him, wanted to know what had happened. Draco had great friends, but that didn't stop the crippling loneliness. He longed for someone who could actually get to know him. The real him. The person he had fought so hard to become. They sat silent for a long time. Draco's cigarette had since long burnt down to the filter, but he still held it between his fingers, playing around with it mindlessly.

“I should probably get back,” Granger suddenly said and stood up. “You're going back on stage soon, right?” she asked and Draco spared her a glance and gave her a curt nod. Then she left.

*~*~*~*

The band played a few more songs after the cake had been served. Harry studied Malfoy closely during every song. As far as he could tell, he might have been wrong. Maybe the former Slytherin wasn't up to something.

Even after their fight, when the blond finally made it back to the stage, everything else seemed to fade and he became like a different person. Somehow, he even seemed more relaxed now, dancing around foolishly, pulling faces and making gestures while he sang and played. He actually looked like he was having a good time.

Harry found himself wondering if this was the person he had become over the last three years, or if this was who he had been all along. Maybe it was a side only his closest friends had seen of him. Or maybe it was something completely new. Harry felt compelled to find out more about the Malfoy he was seeing now. Was it all just an act to keep Harry off his case, or was this who he truly was now? His brain seemed to have a hard time comprehending the fact that this was the some Malfoy he had gone to school with. The same Malfoy who only sneered and mocked him every chance he got. The same Malfoy who had looked at muggles and muggle-borns in disgust. The same Malfoy who had taken the mark.

The last song ended and the group started packing up. Ron appeared by his side.

“So? Are we going to do anything about this or what?” he asked in a hushed voice. Harry stared intensely at the blond, watching his every move. He was just about to reply when someone behind them spoke.

“Let him go,” they both spun around to see Hermione, standing with her arms crossed and a determined look on her face.

“What?!” Ron hissed and Hermione didn't falter.

“Let him go,” she repeated. “He didn't cause any problem. He came, provided music, as such was his job,” she added and gave Ron a meaningful look. “And now he's leaving. So just let him. He's not hurting anyone.”

Ron just stared at her in utter disbelief, mouth hanging open. Harry could tell he was half a second away from going hysterical.

“Are you serious!?” Ron nearly shouted. “Not hurting anyone? Have you forgotten that he's a rotten Death Eater? What do you think will happen once he decides this little play of his is no longer fun, huh?”

“Was,” Hermione just said, letting the hypothetical question slide. Ron's eyebrows wrinkled.

“What?”

“Was,” Hermione repeated. “He was a rotten Death Eater. He's not any more.” she finished and Ron snarled.

“Are you serious?” he spat. “Cause I think if we were to roll up the sleeves on his fancy shirt, the underside of his arm would tell a different story!”

Hermione wasn't budging on this, Harry could tell by the way she steadily held Ron's gaze, face void of any other expression than determination.

“Yes, I'm serious,” was all she said. Ron shook his head.

“Have you forgotten what he used to call you?” he asked and her gaze turned icy.

“Of course I haven't, and I am nowhere near forgiving him for his actions. But I am, and I have accepted his apology.” she said and Ron blinked.

“Wait what?” he asked confused. “What are you talking about.”

“He apologized,” she said. “And like I said, I'm not forgiving him that easily, but I do however recognise that he has changed, and has worked hard to do so.”

“When was this? Where was I?” Ron wondered, still not quite grasping what she was saying.

“During their break. He sat on the front porch, alone. So I approached him and we started talking,” she explained in a simple and light tone.

“So,” Ron said, looking calculating. “You just sat down and had a nice little chat with Draco fucking Malfoy about the weather, am I hearing this right?”

Hermione rolled her big, hazel eyes at him. “You don't have to be so melodramatic about it, Ron,” she said and Ron gaped at her.

“Melodrama-Are you serious?” he groaned. “our first fight as a married couple and it's about Draco sodding Malfoy,” he grumbled.

“It doesn't have to be,” Hermione said with a shrug. “Just let him be. Everything went fine, I'd even go as far as to say that it went great.”

Ron looked torn for several moments before sighing in defeat. “Fine,” said in a bitter tone and Hermione smiled in complacency.

Harry looked over to Malfoy again and watched him as he was standing on the stage, rolling up the cables. He took a decision and walked toward the stage, ignoring Ron who called after him.

When Malfoy saw him, his face turned into a sneer and he looked at Harry in pure contempt.

“Here to arrest me, auror Potter?” he spat and Harry just rolled his eyes at him, determined to not let the blond get a rise out of him. If he was doing this, he was doing it properly. He took a deep breath.

“I actually came to apologize,” he said stiffly and Malfoy looked surprised. “I think I might have misjudged you,” he had to painfully force the words to come out of his mouth. Malfoy snorted at him.

“You think?” he drawled sarcastically.

“You're still a stupid fucking a git,” Harry bit out.

“Great apology there, Potter,” Malfoy snapped. “I'd blame it on your muggle-upbringing, but believe or not, that's not really my jam any more.”

Harry flushed, trying to contain his anger. “You say that, yet I remain unconvinced.” Harry shot back.

“Believe or not, Potter,” Malfoy began in an arrogant tone that made Harry's skin crawl with disgust. “But not everyone is out for your approval, certainly not me.”

“Fine.” he spat. “Forget the apology.”

“Gladly,” Malfoy replied in a cool voice, glaring daggers at him. Harry spun around on his heels and started to walk away, but the he stopped in his track and turned again.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking difficult, Malfoy?” he groaned at him and the blonde stared at him in an enraged disbelief.

“ _I'm_ being difficult?” he said in an angry tone. “You're the one who came here to apologize and then started to fucking insult me, as if you haven't done enough of that today!”

“Because you keep antagonizing me!” Harry shouted frustrated. “You couldn't just take the fucking apology like a decent human being, you had to let your smart-ass mouth run.” Malfoy jumped down from the stage, throwing the cables on to the grass and walked over to Harry in an aggressive manner.

“Oh, I'll take your apology already,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “I'll take it and shove it so far up your ass you'll be coughing and shitting “sorry's” for the next month.”

Harry gestured aggravatingly at him. “See!? There you go again, you just have to have the last word.” He took a step closer. “Are you even capable of holding a conversation without making snide comments?”

Malfoy huffed at him. “Of course I am, but I tend to preserve those conversations for people that are actually worth conversing with. You, Potter, are not one of those people.”

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. “I want to be,” he pressed out and flushed. Malfoy stared at him perplexed.

“What?” he asked puzzled. Harry glared at him as he tried to fight the redness that crept up his neck.

“I want to get to know you,” he snapped. “This new and improved you. Show me he is actually real, and I'll leave you alone.”

Malfoy looked completely at loss for words, but just for a few seconds. Then his face contorted in to disgust.

“I don't owe you a goddamn thing, Potter,” he snarled. “Especially not my time!”

“Give me one day with you,” Harry bargained. “One day to convince me that you've changed. Then you'll never hear from me again and I will make sure that no one else who saw you here will make your location known to the public.”

Malfoy's eyes were wide in both rage and incredulity. “Are you actually _blackmailing_ me into hanging out with you?” he looked revolted but Harry wouldn't budge on this. “How fucking desperate are you?”

“It's this or nothing,” Harry said. “Take it or leave it.”

Malfoy looked absolutely furious. “Fine,” he finally spat. “You know where I work.”

That said, he stormed off and Harry smiled smugly. This was good. Now he could get a glimpse into Malfoy's life and see how he acted with muggles. If he really was as changed as he claimed to be.

He only wanted to make sure that it was actually safe to leave Malfoy behind in the muggle world. After all, he was doing this out of concern for them. Harry absolutely had no ulterior motives. At least that's what he told himself.

 

*~*~*~*

 

The next day, Potter entered the music shop H-ear and Draco stifled a groan. He had hoped that it all had been just a really bad hallucination, that the conversation hadn't taken place in real life. Draco would've rather found out that he was having a psychotic episode, than have Potter follow him around like a fucking security guard all day.

But there he was, smiling like a man who just won the lottery. Infuriating.

“Hellu,” he greeted and Draco gave him a nonverbal response. If he was going to make it through the day with all of his and Potter limbs still attached to their bodies, he was going to have to keep the snide comments on a leash. And the only way he could do that, was to say as little as possible.

“So,” Potter began and all Draco could do was chant _“please shut the fuck up,”_ over and over in his head. “This is where you work?” Draco gave him a blank look.

“I realise that the concept of working is really hard for you to grasp,” he began. “but I didn't know that you were also completely illiterate,” he dead panned and pointed at his shirt that had the store's name and logo on it, as well as a name tag.

“It says “Drake”,” Potter said and frowned and Draco smirked.

“Ah, I stand corrected. You are capable of reading then, I assume?” Potter rolled his eyes.

“Why does it say Drake?” he pressed instead and Draco sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes.

“Potter if you're going to spend all day doing nothing but ask pointless and stupid questions, this is going to be a very long day,” he said in a bored tone.

“Just answer the question, Drake,” he said Draco's chosen muggle-name in a mocking tone. Draco gritted his teeth, ignoring the question.

“Actually, scratch that,” he said instead. “If you are going to spend all day doing nothing but ask pointless and stupid questions, this is going to be a very short day for you,” Draco rephrased. “Because I will fucking stab you to death. Slowly. With a cello bow.” he finished. Potter was silence and for a moment and Draco actually made a little victory macarena dance in his head for getting the annoying prat to shut up.

“Why a cello bow?” he asked and Draco groaned loudly.

“How are we going to do this today?” Draco asked instead and Potter shrugged.

“Just go about your day like you usually do,” he said. “Pretend like I’m not here.”

“Potter, I'd love nothing more than pretend like you aren't here, however the fact that you'll follow me around like an ugly little puppy, breathing down my neck, remains.”

Potter rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

“So,” Draco mumbled after a while. “Did the newlyweds cut the celebrations short yesterday? I thought you'd be too hungover to come today.”

Potter gave him annoying smirk. “Hangover potion,” he just said and Draco muttered an “ah,”without looking at him.

“We went to Burrow after you left,” Potter continued. “A few more people from Hogwarts showed up there, that couldn't make it to the earlier reception. Hagrid for example.”

Draco hummed and nodded understanding. He looked like he was just about to say something when the first costumer made it into to the shop.

“Welcome to H-ear, how may I be of service?” Draco rambled per automatic and flushed a little when he heard Potter snicker at him.

“Something funny, Potter?” Malfoy scowled and the other man just put his hands up and shook his head, trying to look innocent. The customer at hand was a young woman. She looked awkwardly between the two men before she mumbled; “No, I'm just looking.” and started to aimlessly wander around the store.

Draco smiled and her and when she was out of sight, he turned to Potter and glared at him.

“I'm trying to be professional here,” he snarled. “So if you could kindly let me do my job and shut the fuck up.”

“Sorry,” Potter said, still smiling. “I didn't mean to laugh, it was just so unexpected,” he finished and Draco smothered a groan.

“You didn't expect me to do my job?” he growled and Potter shrugged.

“It didn't expect you to sound all peppy and sales-like,” he just said. Draco rubbed his eyes.

“I work at a shop,” he dead panned. “That makes me a salesman, I have to be nice to people.”

“Honestly Potter,” he drawled. “Your stupidity and lack of observation skills never ceases to amaze me.”

Potter stuck his tongue out and Draco snorted at him. “Real mature.” he mumbled.

Time went slowly and when Draco's lunch break finally crept up, he retreated to the back of the store, Potter following closely behind.

“I'm having lunch now,” Draco announced. “If you're hungry you can go into town and get some food.”

Potter nodded. “Yeah, I think I'll do that,” he said and Draco had just enough self-control to not shout out a “WOHO,” as this meant he would finally get some time away from the obnoxious wizard.

“See you in a bit,” He called and waved. Draco ignored him and went to get his lunch box.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Harry made his way back to H-ear with. He had gone to a food chain and taken his food to-go. The day had been pretty slow, with only a few customers coming into the store. Malfoy had said it was normal, seeing since it was a Sunday.

When Harry pushed the door open he heard music. More specifically, piano music. He slowly made his way through the store, following the sound. When he came to to the part of the store where the electrical pianos and keyboards were, he saw Malfoy. Sitting in front of the pianos. Playing, his back turned to Harry. His fingers moved swiftly over the keys, picking up the pace as he went on. He pushed the keys down forcefully every now and then, making some tones ring out louder than the others. He went faster, harder, leaning forward as he put more pressure on the keys, head falling forward as he leaned down, nose almost touching the keys. He looked so intense and Harry couldn't help but to stare at him, completely transfixed. When he slowed down, the slowly straightened himself up, his head falling back. That's when Harry realised that Malfoy's eyes were closed. He wasn't even watching his own fingers as they moved skilfully over the white and black keys.

When the song finally came to and end, Harry decided to make his presence known to blond. He cleared his throat and watched as he turned around violently in his chair and started right back at him with grey, wide eyes.

“That was nice,” Harry hurried to say before Malfoy got the chance get mad at him for spying. “What was that?”

Malfoy's gaze fell and he turned back to the piano, his back facing Harry. He gave a small shrug.

“Just something I improvised,” he mumbled humbly and Harry gaped at him.

“You were improvising, just now?” he asked skeptically and Draco glared at him as he took the freedom to sit down next to him on the same stool, but made no effort to move away or get him leave. “How do you do that?”

Malfoy seemed tense and his response was curt and a bit harsh. “Easy,” he said. “You chose a tone scale and play.”

“Can you teach me?” he asked and Malfoy stared at him in shock. The he turned his gaze to the keys.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

“Teach me the scales,” Harry replied and Malfoy snorted at him.

“That's going to take all day,” he mumbled and Harry shoved him lightly, smiling playfully.

“Well, I'm not going anywhere.” he said and Draco smirked.

“True,” he said with just a hint of a smile. “Do you know what the quint circle is?” he asked and Harry shook his head. Draco poked out his tongue and licked his bottom lip before he started explaining. Harry couldn't help as his eyes fell to his mouth, observing his lips as he spoke. “So, quint basically means 1/5, it's the interval between two keys.” he said. “So for example, from C to G,” he pressed down one key and then another. “That's a quint, because there are five keys from each other. But if it were from C to E,” he said and pressed down the same key again, Harry assumed it was C as the other key was different from the first. E. “That's a tiercé. So that means that there are only three keys from each other. And the most commonly known one, you might've heard of; an octave, which means eight so that means,” he pressed down one C and then moved up to press a higher one. “You get?” he asked and Harry nodded. “So, usually. When it comes to scales, the easiest way to learn them, is to follow the quint circle. So when it's the C scale it's all white keys,” he played eight tones, from C to C he pressed down every key between them. “So if you play a song that's originally in the key of C and you want to transpose it to a G scale, you start on the G key instead,” he pressed down the G. “But then you have to raise one ton half a step, because otherwise it sound terrible.” He started pressing down all the keys, from G, A, B, C, D, E, but when he hit the F, Harry pulled a face and Draco laughed softly. “Exactly. Sounds horrible. So we need to raise this tone, F, to an F#,” he played the scale again and did just that. This time it sounded better. Harry mimicked him and played the G scale.

“Like that?” he asked and looked up at Malfoy. His heart actually skipped a beat when he realised how close they were sitting. He studied the other man's face and couldn't help the flutter of warmth he felt in his chest when he noted how soft Malfoy's eyes were. He gave the tiniest of smiles to Harry and nodded.

“Exactly,” he said in low voice. “Now you know two scales.” Harry smiled back.

“You're not a bad teacher,” he said and Malfoy flushed a little. “You're really just a huge nerd, aren't you,” he said with a smirk and leaned slightly forward. Their faces were mere inches away from each other and Harry could hear Malfoy's breath hitch. That stared at each other for a long time and he noted how the blond's eyes seemed to flicker from his mouth, to his eyes and then back to his mouth. For a moment he looked like he was about to say something, but they were interrupted when they heard the bell by the front door ring, alerting them that a customer had just entered.

Malfoy looked at Harry and swallowed. “I should get that,” he mumbled and got up to leave and hurry. Harry watched him going, thoughts racing. He was slightly horrified by the fact that a part of him had almost felt tempted to kiss the other man. Almost.

He shook his head stood up, walking after the blond.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Draco was getting to ready to lock up. It was seven o'clock and getting dark outside. He glances over to Potter, who was staring at him, looking like a stupid goldfish. Draco fought down the blush threaten to creep up his face. He could feel the other man's stare burn like a cigarette bud being pressed to skin. Finally he snapped.

“Something on your mind?” he asked, trying not to sound hostile. The other other man blinked a few times before he shook his head.

“No,” he said and then gave him a crooked smile. “I was just thinking that you did really good today.” Draco blinked. “I was impressed,” Potter admitted. “You're different.”

Draco turned away and grumbled under his breath. “I told you I've changed,” he mumbled and Harry hummed.

“I know. But it's easier for me to believe it now that I've seen it,” he said. “So,” he walked over to Draco who was putting on a jacket. “You're going home now?”

Draco gnawed the inside of his cheek. “Are you?” he asked and Potter shrugged.

“Only if you are, although I'd like to see how you live.” Draco sighed.

“I'm not going home yet,” he mumbled. He had hoped Potter would've gotten bored and left the store early but he never did. And now he was practically inviting himself over to Draco's flat. He was starting to realise he wasn't getting rid of him that easily. He felt annoyed at himself that he wasn't more upset by it. If he was being honest with himself today hadn't been a complete disaster. It had actually been quite pleasant. Draco frowned.

“So where to?” Potter asked and Draco punched in the code of the alarm and then opened the door to let Potter out, following closely behind.

“It's Sunday,” he said and started walking. Potter said nothing but still walked after him. They wandered in silence for about twenty minutes.

“Where are we?” Potter asked, looking around with a small frown on his face. Draco ignored him and approached a building. He opened the huge front door and held it open, letting Potter in before he followed.

“The second floor,” Draco instructed him and pointed towards the stairs when Potter turned to look at him in question.

“What is this place?” Potter asked

“A homeless shelter,” Draco replied stiffly and Potter stopped walking and turned to stare at him.

“A homeless shelter?” he repeated. Draco nodded. “What are we doing here?” he frowned as Draco sighed deeply.

“It's Sunday,” he just said again and Potter rolled his eyes.

“Yes I know that, you've stated it twice already.” he sounded annoyed.

“On Sundays I volunteer here,” Draco finally explained in a low voice. Potter eyes widened a bit.

“Oh,” he just said and Draco pushed past him and started walking up the stairs.

When they made it to the second floor they went through another door. When they entered Potter looked around in awe. The place was lit up and there were a lot of people there. Everyone was talking and making conversation with each other. The volunteers wore black shirts with the words; “Bee and Angel's shelter for the Homeless”, on them. Draco went inside and leaned down to fetch two similar shirt shirt from a laundry basket. He threw one to Potter, who caught it.

“Put this on,” he just said and started stripping, not caring that they were standing in the middle of a crowded room. Potter blushed and turned away and Draco snorted at him.

“Don't be such a prude, Potter,” he scowled and Potter glared at him, still a little red in the face.

“I'm not,” he mumbled and took his shirt off as well.

Draco couldn't help as his eyes lingered on the other man, taking in every detail of his body. He couldn't deny that Potter was...fit. His dark skin looked smooth and he had a muscular build to him. He had a patch of dark, curly hair on his chest and Draco's eyes trailed down lower on his body, following the line of dark hair that went from his chest, over his abdomen and then disappeared beneath the hems of his jeans. He quickly turned away, blushing when he realised that he was actually checking Potter out. He put the shirt on and made his way over to one of the rooms.

Maya was there. She smiled and waved at them. “Hey Drake!” she called out. “You brought a friend,” and then her eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, it's you! I never got a chance to speak to you at your friend's wedding. How are you?” Potter gave her a smile.

“I'm good,” he said. “You?”

Maya's smile widened. “I'm great! We got so many donations this week,” she pointed at a pile of boxes. “Do you mind sorting through them?” the question was directed to Draco, who shook his head.

“Of course not, are you in the kitchen today?” he asked and Maya nodded, suddenly looking sad.

“There are so many mouths to feed and the number is only increasing,” she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “If this keeps up, I'm almost afraid that we won't afford to keep this shelter running. People are good at donating old clothes and such, but not money. It's like people don't understand the money goes to food and drinks.” she shook her head and sighed. “Anyway, we're a few people short in the kitchen so I offered since I knew you'd be coming and I know how you are in the kitchen,” she gave him a knowing smirk and Draco blushed.

“Cooking is hard,” he snapped in a hushed voice. Maya turned to Potter.

“This comes from a guy who burned a sandwich in the microwave,” she explained. “The microwave.”

“I wanted a warm sandwich,” Draco argued and Maya snorted.

“He wanted a warm sandwich and then proceeded to warm it in the microwave for five solid minutes, who does that?” Potter sniggered beside him and Draco shot him a death glare.

“I didn't know for how long I was suppose to heat it,” he said defensively.

“When he took it out the smoke from the microwave triggered the fire alarm and sandwich was just a big lump of coal,” she said laughing.

Draco growled. “I hate you so much,” he mumbled and Potter laughed along with Maya. “I hate you both,” he added, glaring at Potter as well. Maya waved her hand at him dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah,” she giggled. “You're overusing that phrase, it's lost it's meaning,” she turned around.

“I'm going now, come find me if you need anything,” she called over her shoulder and left.

Draco gave a frustrated sighed and rubbed his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on. When he looked up again, he noticed that Potter was looking at him, eyes gleaming with something Draco couldn't quite put his finger on.

“What?” he asked, feeling a bit self-conscious under the other man's gaze. Potter smiled weakly and closed his eyes as he shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said. “I'm just trying to imagine you cooking in a muggle kitchen,” he smirked and Draco scowled at him.

“I can cook,” he argued. “That story Maya just told was from like three years ago, I know better now,” he said. “I happen to be quiet and excellent cook, for your information,” he added and Potter looked surprised at him, before started smiling at him again, eyes gleaming playfully.

“I guess that's just one more thing I'll have to see for myself to believe,” he mused.

Draco groaned and turned away from him. “We need to go through these boxes,” he said, changing the subject. “Some things that people donate are complete crap, so whatever we have no use of, we throw away and what we can use; if it's clothes we wash them first, throw them in the laundry basket over there,” he said and pointed to a basket on the floor. “and everything else... We just take it as it comes,” Potter nodded and grabbed one of the boxes and put it up on the table, standing next to Draco. He opened it they started to go through it.

“So,” Potter began. “You do this every Sunday?”

Draco nodded. “Maybe not this specifically,” he said. “But I come here every Sunday and do what I can to help.”

Potter nodded slowly. “I'm impressed,” he admitted. “I never took you for a volunteering kind of guy,”

Draco bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something snarky in response, instead he just shrugged.

“Maybe you don't know me that well then,” he mumbled. Potter stopped in motion and looked at him.

“Maybe,” he agreed and Draco tried to ignore the way his stomach flip-flopped at the approval in his voice.

“When did you start coming?” Potter proceeded to ask.

“About two and a half years ago,” he said. “This is where I met Maya and the rest of the band. They were all doing a lot of volunteering here at that time. But now it's mostly just me and Maya, sometimes Timothy.”

Potter nodded. “Why did you start?”

Draco tried not to sigh. “What's with 20 questions, Potter?” he asked suspiciously. Potter shrugged and didn't look at him as he was folding a shirt before he threw it into the basket.

“Just making small talk,” he said and Draco bit the inside of his cheek, pondering over what to say.

“You don't have to be here,” he mumbled after a while. “You can go home.”

Potter shook his head, to Draco surprise. “I want to be here,” he said and looked at Draco. “I think it's good what you're doing here, helping these people.”

Draco only gave a small nod and said nothing.

“So,” Potter continued. “What type of people come here?”

Draco side-eyed him for a bit before replaying; “The homeless kind,” he said obviously. Potter rolled his eyes.

“I get that. But like,” he leaned in closer. “Are there a lot of drug addicts or like dangerous people here?” he asked in low voice and Draco frowned, looking offended.

“Just because someone is homeless doesn't mean they're bad people, it just means that they got dealt a shitty hand in life,” he said angrily and Potter flinched at the tone of his voice.

“I didn't mean it like that,” he said defensibly.

“Well what did you mean then?” Draco's eyes shot lightning bolts and Potter opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it.

“Never mind,” he mumbled and turned back to go through the box. Draco let out a huff and went back to doing the same. They stood in an uncomfortable silence for a long time and Draco could feel the other man sneaking glances at him.

“I'm sorry,” he finally said. “That was a really shitty and narrow-minded thing of me to say,” he looked at Draco and awaited no replay. “I shouldn't have made that assumption,” he continued. Draco finally spared him a glance and nodded silently. “You're right, people can get kicked out and lose their homes for various reasons. That doesn't mean they deserved it or even that they cause it themselves. Or that they are bad people.”

“Most people who come here,” Draco finally spoke. “are teenagers belonging to the LGBTQ+ community and got kicked out of their homes because of it,” he could hear Potter swear under his breath.

“That's really shitty,” he said and Draco nodded in agreement.

“Of course there are drug addicts, but most of them didn't start out that way. They just ended up with the wrong people when they got kicked to curb. Others self-medicate due to mental illnesses and they can't afford the proper medicine for their condition. But that doesn't mean they don't deserve to be helped.”

Potter nodded. “Everyone is just doing what they can to survive.”

There was something sharp and dark in his voice as he spoke and Draco could see from the corner his eye that Potter flinched at the last sentence. Doing what one can to survive. Just like in the war.

“Bathroom?” Potter suddenly asked and Draco pointed.

“Out the door, go right and follow the corridor and then left.” he described shortly and Potter nodded before he he walked out.

Draco watched him as he left, totally and absolutely not checking out his ass, as he did so.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Harry was almost too busy mentally beating himself up that he almost missed taking the left turn to the bathroom. He felt really stupid and could not believe he had just received a lecture from _Malfoy_ about prejudice. The man had been really upset by Harry's comment and he couldn't stop thinking about how his grey eyes had been flashing with rage as he had spoken.

He was just about to turn and walk into one of the bathrooms when he saw Maya. She smiled and waved at him and he waved back. She came up to him.

“I was surprised Drake actually brought his date here,” she said with an amused smirk and Harry blushed furiously.

“Oh no, we're not-” he began but Maya just laughed and him and held up her hands.

“Hey, no judgement here. I think it's great he's finally met someone he trusts enough to show them this part of his life,” her eyes softened as she spoke. “He puts so much time and effort into the shelter, which is great,” she added quickly. “But sometimes he's so busy taking care of others, he forgets to take care of himself.”

Harry was absolutely stunned by this observation. He hadn't realised just how much Draco might be working there.

“He needs someone to take care of him for a change,” Maya said and winked at him. Harry, to lost in his own thoughts to actually read into what that meant, frowned.

“How much time does he spend here? He made it sound like he only came here on Sundays?”

Maya's eyes widened at first, but then narrowed. “Oh, that filthy little liar,” she hissed and shook her head. “No, he comes here every day after work or before. Sometimes before and after.”

Harry's mouth fell open. “Seriously?” choked out and Maya gave a nod. “Why?”

She frowned a little. “Why?” she repeated and looked thoughtful for a while. “I mean, it's not exactly uncommon for people whose been helped by the shelter to start volunteering once they've gotten their life back on track,” she said and Harry's eyes widened like plates. “Oh shit,” Maya mumbled when she saw his expression. “You didn't know?” Harry shook his head slowly and Maya cursed again. “That was not my story to tell, I'm sorry,” she said and backed up a little. “I thought, since you were here, you knew...”

Suddenly, a lot of things that hadn't made sense, made sense. How scared Malfoy had been at the thought of Harry bringing the aurors, disrupting his life. Suddenly, Harry felt like an asshole. He groaned and rubbed his face.

“I'm actually scum,” he whispered as he felt a pain stab in his chest. “Fuck, what have I done?”

Maya looked very uncomfortable and awkwardly patted him on his back. “There, there,” she said tensely, trying to sound comforting. “I'm sure he didn't tell you for a reason.”

It wasn't comforting. Harry groaned again. “I have to talk to him,” he just said and shook his head.

“Bathroom first though, right?” Maya tried to joke and pointed towards the toilets. Harry nodded numbly.

“Bathroom first,” he mumbled and went in to do his thing.

When Harry made it back, he was surprised when he didn't see Malfoy in the room they had been in. The sound of music hit his ears and Harry could feel his heart skip a beat as a familiar voice started singing. He followed the music and it lead him into a dining room. He stared in awe at Malfoy who sat on a chair, guitar in his lap, playing and singing for everyone there as they were eating. Everyone was smiling and clapping or singing along.

Harry leaned against the door frame and took in the sight. Malfoy was smiling as he sung, fingers plucking the strings with ease and his voice was low and smooth. He closed his eyes, only listening to the sound of his voice. When the music stopped Harry opened his eyes and saw Malfoy looking at him. He felt his breath catch in his throat when the blond smiled at him, his grey eyes gleaming playfully.

“You sing, Potter?” He called out and everyone turned to him.

“Not even if my life depended on it,” he replied with a smirk and he got butterflies in his stomach when other man's laugh echoed through the building.

“Come on,” Malfoy said and gestured at him to walk over. Harry complied, pulling out a chair to sit down next to him. “You should know this one,” he said and started picking at the strings. The familiar tune of “Stand by Me” filled the room and people started cheering and clapping. But when Malfoy started seeing, it wasn't the right lyrics. But no one seemed to mind. Instead the cheers and claps increased and some people still sung along.

The lyrics was familiar and soon Harry recognised it as a Taylor Swift song. But after two verses and two choruses Draco switched and sang the lyrics to “Stand by Me”, and this time, Harry sang along. They looked at each other, both smiling. Harry felt the butterflies in his stomach again and the feeling spread through his whole body. Harry continued singing the lyrics for “Stand by Me”, and Draco switched back to the Taylor Swift song. Harry knew he wasn't much of a singer, but at the moment he didn't care. The way Malfoy smiled at him told him that he was at the very least, tolerable.

“So darling, darling stand-”

“Cause we're young and we're reckless,”

“stand by me, oh oh, stand-”

“we'll take this way too far, it'll leave you breathless-”

When the song ended Harry burst out laughing, blushing a bit as everyone was clapping and cheering at them. Malfoy looked almost proud and smirked at him.

Harry could feel his heart clench and suddenly his smile fell from his face. Draco didn't seem to notice and just as well, Harry thought. For he had just realised that he was in deep shit.

 

*~*~*~*

 

The walk home to Draco's flat was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. They walked slowly, side by side, arms brushing lightly against each other as both men had their hands buried deep in their pockets.

After walking for nearly forty minutes, Draco made a turn for one of the buildings. “This is me,” he said and unlocked the door. They made it up the stairs to the first floor and Draco unlocked the door to his apartment. He let Potter in first and then followed behind.

He kicked off his shoes and immediately made it to the balcony. “Fancy a smoke?” he asked Potter. He nodded and followed him out. They both sat down on the rail of the balcony and Draco pushed the door shut with his foot. He got out his pack and gave Potter a cigarette before taking one for himself and lighting it.  
When it was lit, he handed the lighter to the other man, who took it while mumbling “thanks.”

They sat quietly for a while.

“Why didn't you tell me that you needed to turn to homeless shelter when you moved here?” Potter suddenly asked and Draco froze. He stared at him, grey eyes wide and he looked even paler than usual.

“What?” he whispered, sounding almost terrified.

“Maya told me,” Potter continued. “She didn't mean to,” he added quickly when he saw Draco's jaw clench. “She thought I already knew. She said that the reason you were doing so much at the shelter was because they helped you once,” Draco swallowed hard and looked away.

“It's not like you asked,” he said, voice harsh. “And at the wedding you were to busy berating me, I thought it wouldn't make a difference.” he flicked the cigarette. “Like you said, I put myself in that position.”

Potter closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “I was too hard on you,” he finally said. “I'm sorry.”

Draco shook his head. “No, you were right,” he mumbled, refusing to look at the other man. He could feel those dark green eyes, piercing into him. “I ran away because I was a coward.” he put the cigarette to his mouth and inhaled. From the corner of his eye he could see Potter shake his head violently.

“I don't think you're a coward, Malfoy,” he said, voice soft and Draco could feel a lump in his throat. “I think what you've done is very brave. It can't have been easy coming here.”

He hated to admit it, but it felt good to have someone finally acknowledging that what he had done had been challenging. It felt good to finally have someone recognise the effort he had put in these last three years to accustom himself to fit into the muggle society. The lump in his throat grew and he didn't trust himself to speak. Instead he just nodded slowly. “I can see that you've changed,” Potter continued. “And you've worked hard to do so. You got a good life here. I'm sorry I threatened disrupt it by bringing aurors to your door.”

Draco took a deep breath to stabilize his voice. “When I came here,” he began slowly, “I was so fucking terrified. I didn't know anyone or anything, for that matter. Like I told Granger, I felt stupid for the first time, because I had allowed myself to be brain-washed to the point where none of my opinions and view were actually mine,” he titled his head and looked up at the half moon that hung above them.

“They were my fathers.” he said low. “I had been living in a bubble up to that point and nothing I thought was right, or true.”

He could feel his eyes sting. “I had so much hate for muggles,” he whispered, voice shaking.

“And then I came here and I was met with so much kindness and so much understanding.” he shook his head.

“Not at first of course, I was mostly trying to keep away from people when I got here and the more time a spent homeless and shower-less, the easier it got,” he gave a humourless chuckle. “People have a lot of prejudice against homeless people and it was weird for me, you know? Being on the receiving end. But I just kept telling myself that I deserved it. I didn't deserve to be treated with kindness or anything else. Not after who I had been and what I had done.” he put the cigarette in his mouth and held between his lips, clutching with his now free hand, the underside of his other arm. Where the mark was located.

“And then I ran into Gordon,” he sighed and took out the cigarette from his mouth in order to be able to speak. “And he just..” he shook his head. “I don't even know why he helped me. At that point I was sleeping outside, I hadn't shower or shaved in a month. I looked horrible. And he told me about the shelter, and then offered me a job.” Another sigh. “After that I was constantly met with kindness. Everyone at the shelter took care of me, made sure I ate, slept, showered. It was my home for a long time; until I saved up enough money to rent a flat of mine own.”

“During that time, all I could think about was how I didn't deserve to be saved. I never have and I never will understand what Gordon saw that day he met me, that made him think I was worth the trouble.”

“He must've seen the same thing I saw,” Potter suddenly said and Draco froze. “A person worth saving,” the words were spoken softly and even though he knew that Potter meant well, it didn't stop the words from cutting like a knife through Draco.

“Don't say that,” he whispered, holding back his tears. “I've done nothing in my life that's made me a person worth saving.” he angrily wiped away his tears and looked away. He knew Potter was staring at him in pity and he couldn't handle that. He didn't want pity.

“I told Gordon once that if he knew what kind of person I had been before he met me, he wouldn't have bothered with me. I told him to his face that I wasn't worthy of the kindness and compassion I had been shown and you know what he said?”

Potter was quiet and even though Draco wasn't watching him, he knew the other man was shaking his head.

“He told me to strive to become a better person. A person worth saving.”

“So that's what I did. When I got my life together I started volunteering at the shelter and do everything I could do, to make this world a better place. But I still don't feel like it's enough. No matter what I do I'm never going to be able to return the debt. Not to him or the shelter. And no matter what I do, this,” he said he pulled up his sleeve in one violent motion, showing off the mark. “This will always be here. Reminding me of what a truly shitty person I am.”

Potter stared at the underside of his arm and suddenly Draco realised his mistake. He knew his arm looked revolting and not just because of the mark. His arms were littered in angry read, swollen streaks after particularly bad episode last night when he had gotten home. He had started scratching his arm viscously until he drew blood.

He was just about to pull his sleeve down when Potter warm fingers wrapped around his wrist. He swallowed a gasp of surprise and stared up at Potter. His green eyes were gazing at his arm intensely and Draco suddenly felt self-conscious. He weakly tried to pull away, but Potter grip tightened. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to keep his arm in place.

Soft finger trailed down the mark and Draco shivered at the touch. It was a foreign feeling, having someone caress the underside of his arm like that. He never allowed anyone to touch it. When his mother had still been alive she had so many times reached out to touch him there, but he always pulled away, feeling too ashamed. When he came to the muggle world, he always did what he could to hide it, so no one had ever gotten a proper look at it. He never thought that out of all the people in his life, Potter would be the first person to see it properly. To touch it. He slowly shifted his gaze from his arm and felt his breath hitch when he stared right into Potter eyes.

“You're not a shitty person, Draco,” he whispered and at the sound of his first name, coming out of his mouth, Draco pulled away. Suddenly he felt vulnerable. And scared.

“Yes I am,” he hissed and Potter looked taken aback for a moment. “You said it yourself. Just because I made friends with a few muggles it doesn't mean that I am redeemed. It doesn't change anything,” his voice was shaking and he felt angry. Why was Potter sitting so close to him. Why was he touching him, trying to comfort him. Why was Draco craving more. More touches, more words, more time with Potter. His thoughts were spinning.

“You're right,” Potter said, voice hard and Draco flinched at the sound of his voice. “Just because you made friends with a few muggles doesn't mean that you're redeemed.” He repeated and Draco swallowed and tried hard to fight the tears from spilling from his eyes and run down his face.

“However,” Potter continued, voice softening. “You, coming here, educating yourself and realizing that you were wrong. You, putting time and effort into changing your ways and your mindset, working to help people around you. That, to me, sounds a lot like; not only a person worth saving,” he said and inched closer, grabbing Draco's chin and forcing him to meet Potter eyes. “But also a person who's working on redeeming themselves.”

“I judged you too hard when I saw you yesterday. I didn't think it was possible for you to change and I was so convinced that you were just putting up act. I want to apologize for blackmailing you into hanging out with me for a whole day, but honestly,” he gave Draco crooked smile, eyes gleaming. “I don't regret it. I'm glad that I got to spend a day getting to know the new you, the _real_ you,”

Draco wasn't sure who moved first, but if anyone were to ask, he'd blame it on Potter. Potter with his stupid, smooth skin and sparkling green eyes. Potter with his idiotic smile that could stop wars. Potter with his ridiculously fit body and muscular limbs. He'd blame Potter for the kiss, in a heartbeat.

His lips felt soft and warm against Draco. One hand was still resting on his chin, keeping his head up straight and he could feel Potter smoothly rubbing his stubble with his thumb. Draco parted his lips carefully and felt a shiver run down his spine when Potter's tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip before entering his mouth.

Draco wasn't sure how long it lasted, or who pulled away first, but once they were parted, they were both breathing hard and he noted the dilated pupils on the other man and could only assume his eyes looked the same.

“I've been wanting to do that since I saw you on stage yesterday,” Potter admitting, sounding out of breath. He smiled and blushed a bit. “You looked so fucking beautiful when you were playing the piano,” he whispered and Draco shuddered when his warm breath ghosted over lips. “Like there was nothing else in the world but you and that piano. The passion in your eyes, the way your fingers danced over the key, effortlessly.” He leaned in and stole another kiss from the blond. “So beautiful,” he whispered against his lips and Draco frowned.

“I'm not beautiful, Potter,” he mumbled in a hoarse voice. “Excruciatingly handsome maybe,” he smiled when he heard the other man chuckled lowly and then felt him press his forehead against his own.

“That to,” he whispered and Draco felt ridiculous for blushing. In his defence Potter had just admitted that he thought Draco was beautiful _and_ handsome.

Both of their cigarettes had since long burned to the filter and Draco took his and Potter buds and threw them over the balcony.

“Maya's worried about you,” Potter suddenly spoked. Draco snorted and looked away.

“Maya should learn to mind her own business,” he mumbled half-hearted. Draco could feel him frown, as their foreheads were still pressed together.

“You made it sound like you only go to the shelter every Sunday,” Potter whispered. “But she said you're there every day.”

Draco sighed, pressing his head forward. Potter didn't budge and one hand came up slowly started playing with the blond locks.

“I told you,” he mumbled and closed his eyes, loving the way Potter fingers tangled in his hair. “Nothing I do is ever going to be enough.” Potter grip tightened in his hair.

“Stop that,” he said, voice harsh. “You've already done plenty and I have no doubt that your work is appreciated. But it's not worth working yourself to the bone. You don't have to do that,”

“They need people,” Draco replied. “I'm only trying to do what I can.”

“I know, but you're going to wear yourself out,” Potter said and pulled back. “You work long shifts at the store and then immediately go to the shelter. You're too busy taking care of others, you're completely neglecting to take care of yourself.” Draco scowled.

“That's not true,” he began to protest but Potter interrupted him.

“I saw eat once today, Malfoy, once,” he snapped. “What you're doing, ignoring all your basic needs because you don't have time, it's not healthy. I'm sure Gordon wouldn't appreciate what you're doing if he knew that you put everyone else before yourself.”

Draco glared at him. “You don't even know him,” he said angrily. “So don't you even dare speak about him. I'd be dead if it wasn't for him. I owe him, Potter,”

“You've paid your debt, Malfoy,” he said, raising his voice as he spoke. “So why don't stop being such a fucking martyr and take care of yourself!”

“I have been taking care of myself,” Draco growled. “My whole fucking life, I've been putting myself first. I'm not going back to being that person!”

“That's not what I'm telling you to do,” Potter said heatedly. “I'm telling you to stop putting everyone else’s needs above your own! You look like shit, to be honest.” he spat at Draco flinched at his tone. “You look so fucking worn out and I saw every single yawn you tried to hide when you were working at the shelter. Even at the wedding you looked like you were on your deathbed, and I didn't think about it then, cause I just thought you were uncomfortable seeing us there, but that wasn't the case. You're trying to juggle too many balls, Draco. Work, shelter, band. It's fucking stupid!”

Draco's glared turned icy. “Nothing that I do is stupid, Potter,” he hissed. “Don't you dare insult my work and my passions.”

“I'm not insulting that, I'm insulting your priorities,” Potter scolded. “You stay at the shelter until after midnight, _every night_ , when you have work you need to get up to in the morning. I can count Draco and if I'm not wrong, you get a maximum of five hours of sleep every night. Tell me I'm wrong.” His gaze was hard and Draco had to look away, he almost felt ashamed.

“You're wrong,” he whispered.

“Oh?”

Draco swallowed. He could hear the other man groan in realisation.

“It's less than that isn't it?” he said and Draco couldn't bring himself to look at him. Potter grabbed him by the shoulders. “You have to understand that this won't last in the long haul. The way you're living, what you're doing to yourself, you can't keep this up!” Draco pulled away and snarled at him.

“This is the way I've been living for the past two years, Potter” he sneered. “And I'm doing fine!”

He got an eye-roll from the other man. “Yeah because living off of three hours of sleep and a maximum of two meals a day is so fucking healthy and good for you, right? Oh, and cigarettes aren't replacement for food,” he added and grabbed the packet of cigarettes, waving it around furiously.

“I've done a lot worse, Potter,” Draco said in a dark voice. “Believe me.”

Potter faltered. He sighed deeply and grabbed Draco by the arm, pulling him towards himself. Draco swallowed and stared into the green eyes, head slightly tilted up and he annoyingly noted that Potter was a few centimetres taller than him.

“I just want you to look after yourself,” he whispered hoarsely. Eyes turning softer as he slowly leaned forward. “You're doing so much to take care of everyone around you, looking after them,” his lips ghosted over Draco's. “Let me take care of you for a change, let me look after you.”

He sounded pleading, almost desperate. Draco closed his eyes and gave in. He gave a small nod and before he could speak Potter mouth was once again over his. He sighed into the kiss and returned it. He could feel Potter arms around his waist, pulling their bodies closer together.

The kiss was slow and soft, and in the back of his mind, Draco noted it lasted a lot longer than the first one. Potter held him tightly and Draco moved his hands and buried his fingers in the bird's nest that Potter had the audacity to call hair. It was soft and tickled his fingers lightly.

When they pulled away again, Potter smiled softly at him. “You want to go in?” he asked and raised an eyebrow when Draco shook his head.

“Not yet,” he whispered and Potter chuckled when Draco pulled him down for another kiss.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Once inside, Draco put on the teapot. Harry studied the flat. It was small, but very homely and cosy. The kitchen and living room was one big space, not really separated and there was one bathroom and one bedroom. Harry looked around and took in the environment. He sat down on the couch.

“I can't believe you have a TV,” he called and Draco snorted at him, emerging from the kitchen with two cups of tea in his hands.

“Of course I do. I'm not a Neanderthal,” he said and Harry chuckled at him and took one of the mugs Draco held out for him. “Thank you,” he said and started blowing away the steam that brocaded from the hot beverage. He took a sip.

“Hermione told me you haven't been in contact with any wizards since you left,” Harry spoke and Draco hummed in confirmation. “That's why everyone thought you were dead,” he continued. “First the fire and then complete radio silence for three years.”

Draco didn't look at him, he only sipped his tea quietly. “Is it true you're the one that burned it down?” Harry finally had to ask. It wasn't that he hadn't believed Hermione when she had told him, he just needed to hear it from Draco's own mouth. But the blond only nodded.

“Why?” Harry pressed. Draco sighed and put the mug down.

“Granger didn't tell you?” he just asked and Harry shook his head. Draco looked at him for a few seconds before again, sighing deeply. “Well, like I told her. First off; it was a hideous fucking cabin and I hope whoever decorated it is rotting in Azkaban,” he said and Harry snorted at him.

“But, like I also told Granger; if you want to get all deep about it and shit, I guess it was a way for me regain control over my life. That's also why I left. As you might know, the Wizengamot sized the manor and confiscated almost all our income. They moved us out into that cabin to live there. We were allowed to keep our wands, but only to use them for everyday tasks. They put this magical trace in our neck,” he said and gestured towards the back of his neck. He wasn't feeling like showing off any more of his disfigurements. “That way, all of our magical activity could be monitored and traced back to us, if we were to leave the country by Apparition or portkey. I got sick of constantly being under their watchful eyes. When mother passed a took the decision to get out of their. Make something of myself outside and away from everyone's judgement. I burned it down, left my wand and came here.” he slurped his tea. “And that's my life in a nutshell.”

Harry nodded slowly. “I never knew that the Wizengamot took the manor and your money,” he told Draco who only nodded. “How did you get by?” he had to ask and Draco let out a bitter laugh.

“We barely did. The Wizengamot provided us when like this monthly minimum wage/allowance-thing, as long as I looked for a job. When a year and a half had passed and I still hadn't managed to get a job they started threatening with cutting the amount of money we got a month with 75%, thinking that it would motivate us. But by then, mother was too sick to be working and no one wanted to hire a Death Eater,”

Harry could only shake his head at that. “That's...really shitty. I'm sorry you had to go through that,” was all he could offer. Draco stared down at his mug, giving a weak shrug.

“We had it coming,” he mumbled. Harry wanted to disagree, but he knew nothing he said made a difference. Instead he just took the man's hand in his own and gave a soft, reassuring squeeze. Draco's hands were warm from holding his mug. “On my mother's deathbed, she begged me to not become like my father. I think she knew how easy it would have been for me to just let my spite for the Wizengamot and the rest of the Wizarding world fuel me. She begged me to overcome that. The last thing she told me was to be brave,” Harry felt Draco's hand squeeze back, holding on tightly. “The very last thing she told was to be brave. After her passing I knew I had to leave in order to actually survive. I think if I had stayed there, where she died, I would only had gotten angrier and more resentful. I didn't want that. I wanted to make her proud. So I left. To give myself a chance of an actually life that wasn't solely run by hatred and spite towards others.”

“Now you only run on hatred and spite towards yourself,” Harry whispered before he could stop himself. But Draco didn't look mad, instead he bit his bottom lip and looked away.

“I guess,” he mumbled and took another sip of his tea. Harry slowly moved closer, putting an arm around Draco's shoulder. He poked at his head, making the blond turn to him with a frown. Harry took the opportunity to press his head forward, forehead resting against the bridge of the other man's nose.  
He lifted his head carefully, meeting Draco's gaze and held in steadily.

“For what it's worth. I think your mother would be proud of you,” he whispered. “But she'd also be heartbroken over how you're treating yourself.” Draco closed his eyes and inhaled sharply.

“I know,” he whispered back. Harry absent-mindedly started playing with his hair.

“Have you ever thought about coming back?” he asked and Draco shook his.

“I never had a reason to,” he replied. “And it would feel ungrateful towards every one here who helped me establish a life,” he added. Harry nodded slowly.

“I understand that,” he said and caressed Draco's pale cheek. “But if you wanted to come back. With me,” he added and blushed a little, a shy smile creeping over his face. “I'd be really happy,” he leaned forward and gave the blond a soft peck on his lips.

Harry could feel Draco smirking against his lips. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?” he mumbled.

“Very much,” Harry whispered and took the mug from Draco's hand and set it down on the table next to his own. Draco eyes him suspiciously when he leaned forward again, putting his hand against the blond's chest and slowly pushed him down on the sofa. He laid down on top of him, lips locked with Dracos. Harry parted his mouth and non-verbally begged to enter with his tongue. Draco complied and Harry moaned softly into the kiss. Draco's hand grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him down and he was pressed flat against the other man. When they parted, both men were flushed and out of breath. Harry put his hand in Draco's soft hair and caressed his forehead with his thumb.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, voice husky. He pressed his hips against Draco's, who let out a small gasp. “I want to make you feel good,” he continued, trailing soft kisses along the sharp jawline. The stubble felt rough against his lips, but he didn't care. His hand trailed down, touching his chest over his shirt, then down his abdomen and stopped at the buttons on his jeans. He looked up at Draco. His pupils were dilated and his breath was coming out in short pants, face flushed.

“May I?” he asked and Draco's Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. He closed his eyes and nodded. Harry worked the buttons on his jeans open and it wasn't until then, he noticed that his hands were shaking. He focused on trying to still them and slowly pulled down the zipper. He seated himself up on his knees and Draco lifted his hips off from the couch to help Harry pull his pants off. He was relieved to notice that he wasn't the only one trembling. Draco's legs seem to shake ever so slighted when he planted his feet against the soft fabric of the couch. Harry seated himself between his legs and hugged his knees, trailing butterfly kisses down the inside of his thigh. Draco whimpered and the sound went straight to Harry's cock. He looked up at Draco who seemed to have a hard time between deciding if he wanted his eyes closed or open. He was staring down at Harry and the man caressed the pale skin just above the hem of his boxers. He had to control himself from just grabbing them and tugging them down. Instead he rested one hand on the soft fabric, just above the bulge. He looked up at Draco and waited for permission to take them off. The blond bit his bottom lip and gave a slow nod, blushing as he did so. Harry smiled and pulled them off. Draco gasped when the cool air hit his heated groin. He moaned when Harry wrapped his finger around his member, slowly moving up and down. Draco groaned and bucked his hips, pushing into the warmth of the other man's hand.

“Is this okay?” Harry asked hoarsely. Draco looked down at him through half-lidded eyes and could only nod, seeming to be too out of breath to speak. His cock was leaking pre-cum, slicking up Harry's hand as he pumped up and down the shaft, making the motion go smoother with every jerk. Harry leaned up and kissed him. This time it was nothing like the previous kisses they'd shared. This time, the kiss was hungry. Teeth clashing and both men moaning into each other mouths. Tongues tangled and saliva dripping from their mouths.

“Can I taste you?” Harry asked and Draco groaned, hips jerking at the sound of his voice. He forced his eyes open and looked straight at him, face turning even redder when he met Harry's intense gaze.

“I,” Draco began, panting. “I should really clean up, if we're doing this.” he said, his whole body blushing is he spoke. Harry gave a low chuckle.

“Of course,” he whispered and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “You do that, I'll meet you in the bedroom?” he asked and Draco nodded mutely. He shakily got up from the couch and went to the bathroom. Harry had to take a deep breath from keeping his heart from jumping out of his chest. He couldn't believe what he was doing and he couldn't believe how right it felt. He was still painfully hard, his erected penis pressing against his tight jeans. He stood up and made his way into the Draco's bedroom. He took the opportunity to get undressed, giving a sigh of relief when he pulled his pants down. He stripped down to his boxers and sat down on the bed. Waiting, he took in the sight of Draco's room. The walls were empty and felt a lot less personal than the rest of his flat. He noticed a bookshelf and squinted to see the titles of the books. He let out a small chuckle when he noticed the collection of fantasy he had. He truly was a giant nerd. A few video games were place on the shelf as well. Harry recognised a few “Zelda” games, but the other titles were unfamiliar to him. A few books on music theory could be seen as well.

Draco entered the bedroom, looking nervous. Harry smiled when he saw him and got up. He noticed that Draco's member had softened during the time he had been in the bathroom and Harry knew he himself wasn't fully hard anymore. But that changed quickly. At the sight of Draco standing only in his boxer, his pale body bathing in the moonlight, Harry could feel the blood flood his prick. He grabbed Draco by the arm and pulled him closer.

“You okay?” he asked in a low voice. Draco wet his lips and nodded, eagerly grabbing Harry's face and pulled him into a kiss.

Harry chuckled. “Missed me much?” he asked teasingly and Draco groaned.

“It took all my willpower to no jerk off in the shower,” he mumbled against his lips. “Do you know how fucking hard it is to take a piss, when you have the most painful erection?” he sounded so annoyed and grumpy. Harry thought it was adorable.

“And you did the most fun part yourself,” he growled and dragged his fingernails down Harry's bare chest. He moaned into Draco's mouth.

“Sorry,” he panted. “Next time you get to undress me yourself,” he said and smiled at the way Draco's eyes widened at his statement. Then he smirked.

“That better be a promise, Potter,” he growled and Harry pulled him towards the bed, kissing him feverishly.

“Please,” he panted, half-snorted. “You're going to be having your dick down my throat in a few seconds. Call me Harry.”

He smiled at the sound of Draco moaning at his words. He pushed the blond down onto the mattress and crawled into bed, seating himself on his knees between the other man's legs. Like he had in the couch, only now it was more comfortable for the both of them as the bed was much bigger. He trailed soft kisses over his chest, inhaling the sweet scent of soap. When he got to the hem of the boxers he looked up at Draco and waited for confirmation before he pulled them down. He smirked when he noticed that he was already fully hard again, cock once again leaking with pre-cum. He leaned up and kissed Draco.

“I'm glad you didn't take care of yourself in the shower,” he whispered huskily and Draco moaned when Harry started massaging his balls in one hand. “I want to take care of, Draco.” he continued, licking his throat. “I'm going to make this so good for you,” he promised and then went down and took the blond's prick into his mouth.

Draco cried out and bucked his hips. Harry pressed his hands flat against his hipbone, holding him in place. He circled the member with his tongue and revelled in the sounds Draco was making under him. He slipped the cock out from his mouth and pulled back the foreskin, licking at the red and swollen head. Then he took the whole length into his mouth and Draco cried out again in pure ecstasy. Harry could feel the man struggling to keep still. He hummed around his cock and he felt a hand grab at the locks of hair.

“Fuck,” Draco panted, pulling and pushing around the mop of hair on top of Harry's head. “Harry,” he moaned. “I'm close.”

Harry didn't stop. Instead he picked up his pace, bobbing his head up and down and swallowing the pre-cum that slid down his throat. It tasted bitter and salty, but Harry didn't mind. Rather, it encouraged him to keep going and suddenly he felt the grip in his hair tighten and Draco's body tensed up. He came in Harry's mouth with a cry, back arching off the bed and hips jerking. He shook violently and Harry swallowed every drop of semen, keeping Draco's prick in his mouth until he could feel it soften against his tongue. He pulled off and wiped his mouth, smirking down at Draco who looked right a mess. Blonde hair falling into his eyes, sticking to a thin sheet of sweat that glistened on his forehead, whole body flushed, pupils big and chest heaving up and down as he panted harshly, slowly coming down from his high.

Harry laid down next to him. “That was fast,” he said teasingly and Draco blushed and threw his arms over his face to hide himself.

“Shut up,” he groaned, but didn't sound the least bit threatening as he was still out of breath. Harry turned to the side and forced Draco to lower his arms from his face. He smiled at him and caressed his pale cheek.

“You look fucking stunning,” he whispered and leaned down to kiss him. Draco whimpered into the kiss. When he pulled away, Draco's eyes fell on the tent that had formed in his boxers.

“Do you want me to return the favour?” he asked shyly and Harry shook his head and kissed his cheek.

“Tonight, I'm taking care of you,” he said. “So don't even think about it.” Draco frowned at him.

“What if I want to?” he argued and Harry pulled him down so that his head rested on his chest. He stroked the blond hair and kissed Draco atop his head.

“Next time,” he promised. He felt Draco stiffen a bit, but then relax.

“Next time,” he repeated and nodded.

“Are you tired?” Harry asked after a few moments of silence. He could feel Draco shaking his head.

“No,” he said before he looked up at him. “But, I think I'm going to go out for a smoke.” Harry snorted at him and loosened his grip, allowing the other man to crawl out of bed.

“You'll have to go alone this time,” Harry told him. Draco didn't reply. Instead he just got up and started to get dressed. That's when Harry saw the scars that marred his pale chest and ran down over his abdomen and up to his shoulders. Harry felt a pang in his chest when he realised what they were. Images of Draco from sixth year, crying in the bathroom, spinning around when he heard Potter and raised his wand, ready to cast an Unforgivable, flooded his mind, as well as images of Draco lying on the cold tile floor, blood seeping out from every possible angle of his body.

He couldn't understand how he managed to miss it. Twice he had seen Draco without a shirt and not once had he taken notice of the scars. Draco noticed that Harry was staring at him and as soon as he realised why, he flushed and quickly pulled a shirt over his head. Harry frowned at him.

“You don't need to hide yourself from me,” he told him and Harry could see Draco tense up at his words. “We all have battle scars,” Draco threw a glance at him and gave him a curt nod before he left the room. Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. He felt frustrated. He was undoubtedly attracted to the other man, but Draco was not an easy person to deal with. He hadn't realised how incredibly broken the blond was. Until now.

He wanted to grab Draco by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. Tell him that he was worthy of saving. Worthy of being taken cared of. Worthy of love. He shook his head, He really was in deep shit.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Draco closed the balcony door behind him as he made his way back into the flat after his smoke. He went into the bedroom and saw Potter...Harry, sitting on his bed, looking deep in thoughts. He approached the bed and sat down next to him. Suddenly, there was an awkward tension between them and Draco realised grudgingly that they we're going to have to talk. He could feel Harry watching him, but instead of turning to face him, he focused on the wall in front of him.

“Knut for your thought?” Potter suddenly said. Draco glanced at him and snorted.

“That's offensive,” he said. “My thoughts are worth galleons, Potter,” he smirked when he heard the other man chuckle.

“Fine,” he said and Draco could practically hear the eye-roll in his voice. “Galleon for you thought?” he corrected himself and Draco pursed his lips, look thoughtful.

“Depends,” he said after a while. “How many?”

Harry growled and wrestled him down onto the mattress and Draco yelped, struggling to get up. Potter pinned him down, trapping him under his weight. Hands holding his wrist tightly as the darker man pressed them into the mattress and he slung his legs over and seated himself on top of Draco. He smirked victoriously down at him and Draco scowled. Until he got an idea. Being manhandled by Potter was undoubtedly a turn on and Draco bucked his hips to let him know just how much he enjoyed it. Potter eyes widened and his head snapped down when he felt Draco erection against him. He stared at him disbelief.

“Seriously?” he asked, chuckling. “Again?” Draco tried to look innocent as he shrugged.

“Not my fault that you're infuriatingly sexy,” he said and smirked when he saw Potter blush. Diving down for a kiss, Draco moaned and once again bucked his hip. Potter exploited the opportunity and shoved his tongue into Draco's mouth. Wrists still pinned against the mattress, Draco struggled as he wanted nothing more than wrap his arms around him and pull him closer. Harry groaned and held him down tighter, cause Draco to gasp in arousal.

“Fuck,” Potter panted. “Draco, how far do you want to take this?”

Draco leaned up and licked the shell of his ear before whispering. “All the way.”

Potter swore and rutted his hips against Draco's, causing the man to let out a whimper. “Are you sure?” he panted and Draco nodded. Finally, Potter let go of his wrist and Draco slung his arms around the other man, pulling him down.

“Fuck me,” he whispered and thanked Merlin that Potter wasn't looking at him when he said that. He felt himself blush at his own words and buried his face in the nape of the other man's neck. He nipped and licked at the dark skin, dragging out low groans from Potter mouth. Potter placed one hand on his hip, trying to still him and Draco made protesting sounds at the back of his throat.

“If you keep that up I'm going to jizz in my pants,” Potter admitted, blushing and looking away. He pulled away and was just about to take his shirt off when Draco grabbed his wrist.

“You promised,” was all he said and Potter stared and him dumbstruck for a moment before he understood what he was talking about. He nodded slowly and let the hem of his shirt go, allowing Draco to undress him. He threw Potter's shirt on the floor and moved on to his pants, unbuttoning them before yanking them down to his ankles, along with his boxers. Draco was just about to kneel down when Potter grabbed his chin and forced him up again.

“Not tonight,” he said softly. “Tonight it's all about you,” Draco frowned at him.

“But you said-,” he started to protest and Potter chuckled.

“I know what I said, but I didn't think “next time” would mean tonight,” he said and ran his thumb against Draco's bottom lip. “Believe, I'd love for this to happen,” his voice was hoarse and his gaze lustful. “But not tonight. I told you; I want to take care of you,” he leaned down and kissed Draco who was beginning to feel light-headed. Potter pulled Draco's shirt off and started kissing along the scars on his chest. He pushed him down on to the bed and continued, kissing and licking every piece of scarred tissue on Draco's pale skin.

“Don't ever try to hide these from me,” he whispered and Draco shivered at the sound of his voice. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he trailed kisses from his chest and up to his shoulder, then made it down towards the underside of Draco's arm. He felt panic rise in his chest and he tried to pull away, but Harry held his wrist tightly. “Please, let me do this,” he begged. “I want you to understand that I don't care. You're so fucking beautiful, Draco, inside and out. And no scars, or marks, or branding in the world could ever change that.”

Draco felt every word cut through his heart like a knife and he gasped. At the same time, there was a warmth that spread throughout his body and that feeling allowed him to allow Potter to continue. He felt him kiss, lick and bite the tender skin. Draco was shaking from arousal. He had never had anyone treat his scars, his body, this way. He wanted to pull away and he wanted it to never end. He felt a lump form in his throat and his eyes stinging from the shame. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve Harry.

“I know you think you're not worthy,” Harry spoke, as if he had just read Draco's mind. “But you are, Draco,” he sounded so desperate and sad when he spoke. Draco choked out a sob and threw his free arm over his eyes, He didn't want Potter to see him crying. “You're so beautiful,” he whispered into Draco's ear. “And you're such an amazing person and I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

“You were always attractive, Draco.” Harry said and Draco almost felt dizzy. “But now, you're so much more than that. Everything about you is enchanting. The moment I saw you I wanted to get close to you, get to know you,” Draco's breath hitched at the confession that spilled from Potter's mouth.

“Look at me,” the gentleness in Potter voice left Draco with no other option than to comply.

“Please,” Draco choked out, hating the way he sounded. Potter pulled him into an embrace, rubbing his back soothingly.

“I know,” he whispered. “Don't worry, I got you. I'm going to make this so good for you, I promise.”

Draco relaxed into the touch and moaned when he felt Harry's erection pressing against his own.

“Lube? Condoms?” Harry asked and Draco gestured towards the night stand. Harry scrambled to get to the other side of the bed and pulled out said objects. Draco took his pants off and threw them onto the floor, along with his boxers.

“On your back,” Harry instructed gently and Draco did as he was told. Potter grabbed his legs by the hollow of the knees and hoisted them up, resting them on his shoulders. Draco adjusted himself on the bed. Suddenly he felt nervous.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked, trying the disguise the anguish in his voice.

“Only to myself,” Harry mumbled, blushing and Draco felt his cock throb at the admission.

Potter opened the bottle of lube and poured a heavy amount onto his fingers. Draco swallowed. Potter looked at him seriously before he continued.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked and Draco closed his eyes and gave him a nod, feeling his face heat as he did so. “If you change your mind, or if it becomes too much you need to tell me. The last thing I want to do is to hurt you.”

Draco forced his eyes opened and stared intensely into Harry's eyes. “I will,” he promised and Harry smiled approvingly at him.

“Good,” he whispered and pressed the first finger against his entrance. Draco tensed when he felt the digit enter him. It burned and he had to concentrate hard on his breathing to power through it. Potter moved his finger around slowly, waiting for Draco to loosen up before he pressed it further and Draco gasped.

“You okay?” Potter asked concerned and Draco nodded furiously. It hurt, but the last thing he wanted was for Harry to stop. Draco felt Potter move and opened his eyes to him reaching for the bottle of lube again, adding another generous amount directly on to his hand. Draco hissed at the cold and Potter mumbled a “Sorry”.

“Are you ready for second one?” Harry asked and Draco shifted before nodding. The burning that had just subsided, returned and Draco squeezed his eyes shut.

“Tell me if it's too much,” Potter whispered, but Draco shook his head.

“It's not,” he gasped. “Keep going,” Potter obliged.

Before adding a third finger, Potter poured more lube onto his fingers and this time it slipped in with ease. He pressed his fingers deep inside of him and then curled them upward, causing Draco to cry out thrash around violently when he hit his prostate. Potter immediately grabbed his cock and started jerking up and down as he worked Draco open with three fingers.

Draco was a moaning, sweating, crying. His hair was tousled and his entire body was flushing from head to toe. Potter groaned and covered Draco's mouth with his own. The kiss was hungry and desperate and Harry could hear the blond whimper into his mouth. He drank up every sound the young Malfoy made, loving every second of it. Feeling like he himself was at bursting point, he pulled away, let go of Draco's cock and pulled out his fingers. Draco groaned in protest but Harry kissed the inside of this thigh reassuringly. He took a condom and made an attempt to unwrapped it, hands shaking from arousal and fingers slippery with lube he dropped it several times. He blushed a little when Draco started laughing at him. He smiled up at Potter, skin still shining with sweat and eyes clouded with lust. He reached out and grabbed to condom from Potter and slid his legs down from his shoulders before sitting up.

“Let me,” he said and unwrapped it with ease and rolled it onto Harry's prick. Harry gasped at the feeling of Draco's fingers touching his member. When the condom was on, Draco positioned himself on his back and hoisted up his legs, resting them on Potter shoulders once again.

Potter positioned himself and poured more lube into his hands, slicking up his condom-clad dick before he looked at Draco, waiting for the other man to nod, before he slowly pushed inside.

Draco gasped and his back arched of the bed. Harry sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and bit down hard in order to keep himself still.

He waited for a few moments until he heard Draco groan at him, telling him to move.

He slowly rocked into to him, Draco responding beautifully to every trust. The pained expression was soon replaced and when Harry felt confident that he was no longer in pain, he gave a particularly hard and deep thrust, causing the man beneath him to cry out as he hit his prostate. Harry kept himself at that angle, hitting the spot with every thrust and Draco's cries and moans grew louder with each one.

“God,” Harry panted, damp hair sticking to his forehead, he looked down at Draco and nearly came from the mere sight of him coming completely undone below him. He felt Draco's leg fall from his shoulders and wrap around his waist, urging him to go deeper. He leaned down and kissed him, Draco tongue pushed forcefully into his mouth and he whimpered when Harry grabbed a hand full of his hair, stroking the blond's tongue with his own.

“You're so beautiful,” Harry panted against his lips when the parted for air. “You looking fucking exquisite,”

Draco was chanting incoherently and all Harry really caught was “please”, “Harry”, and “close”, he slowed down, making each thrust long, deep and hard.

Draco was at breaking point. Tears were sliding down the side of his face from the desperate need to cum, he could no longer form any words. Every time he tried to speak all he could do was moan and chant “Harry”, over and over again. Suddenly Draco clenched down painfully around Harry, causing his eyes to almost roll back in his head. His whole body tensed and let out a series of gasps and moans, voice hoarse from being so vocal.  
When he came, his back arched off the bed and his mouth was open in a silent scream. Harry followed soon after, the sight of Draco orgasming and feeling the way he tensed around him pushed him over the edge.

Harry collapsed on top of Draco, both men panting and covered from head to with sweat. Harry had to take a few moments to gather his strength before he could push himself up and carefully slid out of the other man.  
Draco let out a weak whimper and Harry pulled off the condom and tied it together and threw it into the trash can that was located next to the bookshelf in the room. He laid down next Draco and looked at him, his pale skin was slowly turning less red, but his face was still glistening with sweat and his damp hair stuck to his forehead. Potter blinked a few times, surprised when the blond turned to snuggle up against him, burying his face in his chest. Harry held him.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly and felt Draco nod against his chest. He was still trembling slightly in Harry's arms and he pushed back the damp hair with one hand and place a kiss on Draco's forehead.

“That was incredible,” he mumbled into the blond hair and Draco chuckled.

“Yeah,” Draco had to agree. They laid in bed silent for a long time. Only the sound of their heavy breathing could be heard and slowly as the came down, that too faded.

“What happens now?” Draco asked in a whisper. Harry gnawed at his bottom lip. He wanted Draco to return with him to the Wizard society, but he had a feeling he already knew what he'd say to that. And Harry didn't want to just leave, like he had said he would if Draco gave him one day to spend with him.

“I think,” Harry began carefully. “That I want to be a part of your life, if you'd let me.”

He could feel Draco hug him tight in response. “But,” he continued. “If this is going to work...” Harry let out a deep sigh and he could feel Draco stiffen. He looked up at Potter, grey eyes wide and shining with concern.

“What?” he asked in low voice. Harry rubbed his face.

“Draco, if this is going to work, we need to make some changes. You need to make some changes,” Draco frowned. “First off, I want you stop being such a martyr. Listen,” he added, interrupting Draco who opened his mouth to protest. “I understand that you're not doing it on purpose and that you genuinely think that you're a bad person, but, fuck, Malfoy. You told me yourself that you had changed, but it's like you don't believe it yourself. And if you don't believe it, how is anyone else suppose to? You've paid your debts, all of them. I need you to stop doubting yourself and stop with the self-hatred. What's done is done. The war left everyone scarred, but we've moved on. You need to do the same. You need to let go.” Draco's lips were pressed into a thin line. But he didn't look upset. Instead he just nodded.

“I think one of the first things you need to do is start putting yourself out there. In the Wizarding world. I'm not telling you to move back there, but,” he swallowed and shrugged. “I don't. Come and visit, show yourself. And show the public that you're strong, because you are. The first step to forgiveness is asking for it. I'm not telling you to go around and knock on people's doors. But show them through actions, like you've done here, that you have changed. I'm not saying it will be easy or that even that everyone will forgive you, but I think it'll be worth it. I think that you need to prove yourself, not to them but to yourself, that you have changed. I honestly think this is the only way for you to break the cycle of this crippling self-hatred and destructive lifestyle that you're leading.”

“So, what do you say?” Harry looked nervously at Draco. He stared at him for a long time and then nodded.

“I think you're right. And it won't be easy, but it'll be worth it.” Harry hugged him tightly.

“I'll be with you every step of the way,” he promised and Draco melted against him. For the first time in his life he actually felt safe, and he completely trusted Potter to keep it that way. He had changed before, he could do it again. This time, he wasn't alone.

 

*~*~*~*

1,5 YEAR LATER

*~*~*~*

 

“Why are we doing this again?” a grumpy Weasley asked his wife of one year and a half as they arrived at the Burrow. A very pregnant Hermione gave a sigh in annoyance.

“Because Harry is our friend,” she reminded her husband. “And we will love and support him through any mistakes and decisions he makes,” she finished and stopped walking when they arrived at the front door.

“I still don't understand why he has to be here,” Ron hissed in a low voice.

“Will you get over yourself,” she snapped. “They've been dating for over a year and whether you like it or not, Draco is part of the family now.”

“Oh, Draco is it now,” he mumbled and Hermione stomped on his foot. He let out a painful yelp and was just about say something when Molly swung the door open.

“What are you standing out here for? Come on, let's get you inside!” Hermione gave her a sweet smile and pushed past Ron as she walked in.

The rest of the Weasley family was there, laughing and talking as they were sipping hot chocolate and wrapping gifts. Christmas was just around the corner and in the living room a Christmas tree stood, fully decorated and swimming in a presents. Ginny sat in the couch, feet propped up in Luna's lap, deeply engaged in a conversation with her girlfriend. Harry and Draco sat on the floor, wrapping gifts. Or, at least trying. Harry was terrible at gift wrapping and Draco scolded him before snatching the present away from him and wrapping it himself. Meanwhile, Harry entertained himself by decorating Draco's hair with golden sprinkles of glitter. He looked annoyed, but let Harry continue his shenanigans.

Molly appeared in the living room again, with a pile of presents in her arms and she started to hand them out.

“Here go, dear!” she said and dropped a present in Draco's lap. He looked up in confusion. Harry smirked and him. Everyone but Malfoy already knew what the gifts were and therefore it was more fun for everyone to watch him open it, just to see his reaction.

“Thank, Molly.” he said kindly and Molly just waved her hand dismissively.

“Oh don't you thank me. It's tradition and you're part of the family now!” she said and Draco blushed at her words.

“Still you didn't have to.” he began but George just snorted.

“It's the same thing every year, Malfoy,” he said. “Everyone gets the same thing, so you're not special.” he said and Draco's gaze fell. Harry shot George a glare and he just shrugged his shoulders.

“Open it then,” Ginny encouraged him. Draco blinked and then started removing the wrapping. Inside was a hand knitted sweater. Slytherin green with a big silver D on the front. Draco looked stunned and completely horrified. Everyone started laughing, shaking their heads as they opened their own presents that contained similar shirt, in different colours and with different letters on the front. Harry, Ron and Hermione's sweater all had the same colours and Draco could actually see Granger's eye twitch as the sweater looked like it could fit over a truck. He tried not to laugh and soon noticed that he wasn't the only one.

“When you've lost all the baby weight you can use it as a blanket for the baby,” Ron suggested and Hermione glared daggers at him. Beside Draco, Harry lost it and started laughing hysterically. Draco had to bite the inside of his cheek, hard, to keep himself from joining in.

“Merlin, mother,” George said. “Did you go by the measurements of an Orca?”

Hermione ignored all of them and put the shirt on. It literally reached all the way down to the floor, only the tips of her toes sticking out from under it. Soon, even she couldn't deny how absolutely ridiculously this was and she started laughing as well. Everyone put their sweaters on and Draco leaned forward, closer to Harry.

“Do I have to?” he whispered mortified and Harry chuckled at him

“Yep, like she said it's tradition, and you're part of the family now!” Draco groaned but put in on nonetheless.

“The minute we go back to my flat I'm donating this to the shelter,” Draco hissed and Harry gasped, looking offended.

“Don't you dare,” he said. “She put a lot of work into this. The colours suits you, brings out your eyes.” he teased and Draco pulled a face at him.

“Oh, Draco dear, would you do us the honour and play for us?” Molly suddenly asked and Draco tensed. He still wasn't fully comfortable playing around people he knew, he felt to exposed whenever he did and he felt like no matter what, if they didn't like him they didn't like his music. Draco was fine with people not liking him, but his music was his passion and couldn't let it slide if someone were to mock him over it.

“Yes, please do!” Hermione said and smiled encouragingly at him. He looked around to see if someone wanted to protest, but when everyone, including George and Ron nodded approvingly he smiled and got up. He seated himself in front of the grand piano and started playing.

As always, he could feel his mother's presences by his side as he started playing. His fingers moved slowly over the keys, pressing down. The song was a slow pace one, an original piece. He had composed it the day Harry had went over to the Weasley's to inform them about his new relationship. Draco had been a nervous wreck and even though Harry wanted him to come with, he refused. He knew they had to had been furious at the news and he was sure Harry had sugar-coated it when he came back and retold the events for Draco. He had felt hopelessly lonely at that time and somehow he had allowed his paranoid mind to convince him that the Weasley's were going to give Potter an ultimatum and Potter would choose them over him, obviously. He realised pretty soon that he had severely underestimated the family's love for their bonus son and it didn't take them that long to accept Draco as part of the family. George and Ron were the only people Draco hadn't completely won over. They were still suspicious of him and often said really petty and mean things to Draco, expecting to get a rise out of him. But Draco never took the bait and soon the brother's got tired of trying. Ron had eventually apologized for punching him at the wedding and Draco just waved it off, saying it was water under the bridge and that he would've done the same, probably.

It had been a pleasant surprise for Draco when he found a friend in Ginny. Luna had somehow managed to convince her to give him a chance and once they actually started talking, they realised they had a lot in common. And not just that they both had shagged the boy who lived.

Percy, Charlie and Bill mostly left him alone, but Draco had gotten acquainted with Fleur. When they first had met and spoken at the Burrow, Fleur had been delighted to finally have someone who could speak her native language.

His relationship with Molly and Arthur was a bit awkward. They never knew what to say to each other and it made Draco extremely anxious when he found himself alone with either, or both of them. He had managed to bond a bit with Arthur over some muggle stuff but those conversation's were often very tense and very short. Even though the older man seemed to be able to go on and on about when he spoke to anyone else, he always got very quiet and short with Draco.

Even though his life wasn't perfect and he hadn't been forgiven by the majority of Harry's friends, he was still happy, or at least happier. He felt safe with Harry and took comfort in the fact he was at least trying. It was a slow process of course, as change is. But he did notice that every day got a little easier and every day more people seemed to tolerate him. He still had his flat in London, but he reduced his time at H-ear and was only working part-time there now. Gordon hadn't minded at all. He still went to the shelter every now and then and he stilled played his music. All in all, life was pretty good.

Draco stopped playing and felt himself flush when he heard everyone clapping some even cheering. He was about to stand up and walk back when he noticed that he seemed to be stuck in his chair. He frowned and tried to move again, but he didn't budge. He was stuck.

“Guys,” he called. “I can't get out of the chair.” He frowned. “What is going on?” he was panicking. Suddenly he heard someone laughing. George.

“That, my friend,” he said in a proud voice. “Is my newest invention. Look up.”

Draco tipped his head and looked up, noticing a mistletoe hanging over his head. He groaned.

“What is that?” he scolded and George walked over to him, but not too close.

“A mistletoe that traps any person or people that go under it,” he smirked. “They're stuck beneath it, until the they get kissed,” he explained. “I can't believe it worked, this is my first time testing it!” he said and Draco face flushed in anger.

“And you thought I was an excellent guinea-pig?” he snapped and George rolled his eyes.

“Well yeah, Hermione was pregnant and Luna would never go near a mistletoe because of the...”

“Nargles,” Ginny said and George snapped his fingers.

“Exactly! So yeah, it was you or Harry really.” he gave an innocent shrug and Draco groaned.

“Potter, get over here and get me out of here,” he called. Harry snickered from behind him.

“I don't know, Draco,” he said thoughtfully and Draco growled.

“Potter get your ass over here and kiss me so I can get out of here!” he snapped and everyone in the room started snorting with laughter.

“So pushy,” Harry mumbled, suddenly appearing behind him. “I'll give you a kiss if you promise me that you won't give the sweater away to the shelter,” he whispered and Draco turned red.

“Fine,” he hissed. “I won't, kiss me now, you idiot.” He heard Potter let out a low chuckle before grabbing Draco's chin and turning his head. He planted his lips over Draco's and Draco closed his eyes and melted into the kiss. When he tried to move this time, he succeed and he sighed in relief.

“Thank merlin,” he mumbled. “I thought I was going to be stuck under there for ever.” Harry smiled and pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around the blond's waist.

Draco looked up at him and felt a warmth spread through his chest when he saw Harry looking at him in complete adoration. He pulled him into another kissed, which earned them a groan from everyone else in the room.

“Get a room!” Ginny called and threw a fist of popcorn at them. Harry laughed and Draco smiled.

Yes, he thought, all in all, life was pretty good.

**Author's Note:**

> If u haven't heard Bastille's mash up/cover of t swifts blank space and stand by me I feel sry for u. Leave kudos and a comment if u managed to suffer through all that lol.
> 
> Edit: SOMEONE WAS NICE ENOUGH TO POINT OUT THAT'S IT'S imagen dragons and NOT BASTILLE'S LIKE MY DUMBASS THOUGHT.


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